


Petrichor

by TurtleAds (merpwrites)



Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter/Funhaus RPF
Genre: Alternate Universe - Supernatural Elements, F/M, Guns, Minor Injuries, Modern Fantasy AU, Panic Attacks, Swearing, and (spoiler) bad guy death, and also books, and puns, but also contains the following, cute fluffy stuff most of the time, everyone is a supernatural creature of some sort, fighting - the actual physical kind, minor blood, vampires and werewolves and things that go bump in the night
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-07-28
Packaged: 2018-12-07 22:23:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 12
Words: 43,640
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11633160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/merpwrites/pseuds/TurtleAds
Summary: “Blaine, it’s a long story, but the short version is I was attacked by some Unseelie jerk on Saturday night and Trevor here –” You gestured to Trevor next to you, “ – along with another guy, Ryan, helped me out, but my dad and Geoff – you know, Ramsey? – think that I’m not out of the woods yet, so I’m being babysat by Geoff’s whole crew for a while, until we figure out why what happened, happened at all. I’m assuming Michael and Jeremy introduced themselves?”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Petrichor [noun]: a pleasant smell that frequently accompanies the first rain after a long period of warm, dry weather.  
> Hello! Welcome! This has already been posted on tumblr (adscititious-cacoethes.tumblr.com).  
> In this first chapter there are some guns and some mild descriptions of violence and fighting and also a little bit of blood. Please enjoy! Comments and feedback are appreciated.

There wasn’t a lot of time to really figure out what was going on.

All you knew was that there were people – with _guns_ – running after you, not Normal people but they were too far away for you to See, and you were running out of steam but they were still close enough that you couldn’t just _wing it_ out of there, in case they were, actually, hopefully, Normal people and just had a façade of being not-normal. (The unnatural speed really sort of gave it away that your hopefulness was for naught, but they weren’t the only people on the streets tonight, and you were not about to risk getting civilians involved).

You ran across the street, letting just a little bit of your power eek out, just enough to get through the cars without them hitting you (or each other – you weren’t in the business of getting other people killed), whipping around just in time to see them turn the corner across the street, guns drawn and eyes peeled, looking for you. You pulled the hood of your jacket further forward, covering your face, and fast-walked into the nearest crowd of people, leaving a bar happy and drunk. They either didn’t notice or didn’t care about your sudden presence, but you still flitted through them as quick as you could, turning down the nearest alley and rounding a corner before the drunken pack had even made it a block. You stopped for a moment to breathe, hiding behind a dumpster (despite the smell being borderline painful), when you heard hurried footsteps coming your way.

You slammed up a barrier just before they turned the corner and took off running again, fully knowing that as soon as you were out of sight it would go away but hoping that it would give you enough time to find somewhere to hide. It was times like these that you wished you could do something _useful_ , like teleportation, or intangibility. Hell, even possession would be helpful at this point in time. But alas, you had to stick to running and praying that no one Normal saw your mostly-translucent barrier – that no one saw you at all, really.

You ripped down another alley and around a couple of corners, zig-zagging your way through streets that were mostly dark and deserted, cold and unfamiliar. When you made your way out of this – _if_ you made your way out of this – you were going to have a helluva time trying to find your way back to a place that you even sort of recognized. _Shit._ You’d been running in a straight line for too long. You heard the sound of gunfire, felt a round whiz just above your head and put on the gas, practically flying around the corner and then –

“Oof!” You nearly fell backwards onto your ass if it wasn’t for the strong, cold hands that suddenly gripped your forearms. Looking up, (way up, he was _tall_ ) you realized you had ran face-first into a man – a pair of men, actually, when another man looked over the first one’s (who’s still holding you by the arms, by the way) shoulder. You blinked, purposefully, and Saw that they gave off an aura, of what you needed to concentrate a little more, but in the few seconds it took you just to See, you could already hear the men catching up to you and panic _really_ settled in.

“Listen,” you whispered, out of breath, “I don’t know who you are or what you are, but you’re not Normals, and I’m not Normal either, but there are men coming after me and I don’t know why so if you could help a girl out that’d be really, super-duper appreciated.” You spit it out as fast as you could, gaze flitting between the bright blue eyes of the man in front of you and the deep dark brown of his companion. You could practically _hear_ him think for a second – maybe two – and then he was shoving you behind him (you would’ve fallen if you didn’t correct yourself) and both of them were spreading their feet apart and bending their knees a little, enough to still be mobile but casual enough to not cause immediate attack. The two men turned around the corner and immediately pulled their guns up.

You blinked and focused, knowing that you had at least temporary safety in the form of the two helpful strangers to at least See what’s going on a little bit. The taller of your two assailants had a tiger’s eye-colored aura swirling around him, the shorter a stark white, streaks of gray running through it. Focusing more on the not-trying-to-kill-you men in front of you, you saw the twin blood red auras that signified vampirism ( _wow, how did you not notice that the first time? Pretty damn obvious_ ).

“Need you two boys to just step aside now, don’t know what this little lady told ya but it ain’t none of your business.” The taller one said, while at the same time you whispered, voice small as you could manage, “Shifter on the left, banshee on the right.”

Blue Eyes gave you a glance of recognition without moving his head, while Brown Eyes nodded almost imperceptibly without looking away.

“Afraid we can’t do that, sorry.” Blue eyes rumbled, his voice deeper and more menacing than you thought it would be. You could See banshee-man’s aura concentrating around his head and shoulders, more than likely preparing to let out a Scream, and you contemplated for a second in the heavy silence whether or not you could absorb something like a banshee Scream (absorption isn’t your strong suit but there’s a first time for anything, right?) when Blue Eyes growled out _“now”_ and both vampires lunged forward simultaneously. A split second later a spray of bullets answered them. You squeaked and ducked behind a trash can, trying to save your energy to do something maybe-useful while still using your Sight in case the banshee Screamed and you needed to warn the vampires.

“Hoo-wee-mama.” You swore under your breath, poking your head around the dumpster to see the man Shift into a large tiger just as Blue Eyes lunged at him. Brown eyes had just broken a grapple with the banshee, and the latter’s aura was swirling, concentrating –

“Scream!” You shouted, just as he opened his mouth. You sprang into action, _flying_ forward and splayed your hand out, focusing your aura through your body and into your palm. A small blast of pinkish, sparkly energy burst from your palm and hit him square in his (slightly unhinging – banshees are _gross_ ) mouth. Before he could recover, Brown Eyes leapt at him, raking fangs across his neck.

 _That was…unbelievably lucky._ You thought to yourself, turning without a solid purpose in mind and then _whoops_ there’s a hand on your throat and _yep_ feet are not on the ground! Your hand shot up to grip at the disembodied hand around your neck, pulling in an undoubtedly fruitful attempt to get him _off_  ; you were guessing it was a him, judging by the fact that his hand was so large it nearly wrapped all the way around your throat and the mere act of him holding you off the ground was crushing your windpipe.

You gasped and the hand squeezed a little bit, face materializing into view. His face was scarred, teeth pointed and red eyes wild, and although he startled you enough that you could not See his aura, there was no doubt that he was fae – Unseelie, at that.

“You’ve caused quite a bit of trouble here, little one,” He snarled in your face, breath hot, words lisping as his tongue seemed to struggle around the sharpened teeth, “almost more trouble than you’re worth.”

“I – wha –” You struggled to get out a refute, a question, _anything_ , but as soon as you opened your mouth he just squeezed tighter, and you could feel the rings on his fingers digging into your skin. There was a large crash to your left, and it made the man jump, flexing his fingers just a little more and making your vision swim.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea.” You heard from the left, and then there was a gunshot and you were falling to your knees on the ground and a second that spattered your face a little with blue blood – fae blood – and Sharp Teeth was snarling, _“Don’t think that I won’t be back for you”_ and disappearing as you looked up and Blue Eyes fired another shot where he had just been but it must have missed because no body crumpled to the ground. There were still black dots in your vision as you tried to draw as deep of a breath as you could, throat aching, looking around desperately in an attempt to figure out what the _fuck_ was going on.

Blue Eyes chuckled lowly, “I was about to ask you the same question.”

Your eyes widened as you realized _shit I said that out loud_.

“I –” You paused, momentarily surprised by the raspy quality of your own voice and clearing your throat slightly before continuing, “I am so sorry, I hope you weren’t hurt, and…I have no idea who that man is.” As you spoke, you glanced around and saw the banshee cowering in fear at the end of the alley, hands on his neck, and the shifter lying half-naked and unconscious in a him-shaped dent in the dumpster before finally looking up at Blue Eyes.

Besides the blue eyes, he had brownish, wispy hair that he raked a hand through as you spoke, a slightly crooked nose to match the crooked grin he gave you, fangs still poking just a little bit over his bottom lip. He crouched down to get eye-level with you, but even then, he still seemed tall, and now that you were close and not in immediate danger you could see the broadness in his shoulders and the scruff on his face.

“Well, that’s not good, now, is it?” He spoke rhetorically, chuckling as he did. He looked at you for a moment, his eyes almost as bright as his aura, and you couldn’t find it in you to do anything but stare back and rub absentmindedly on your sore neck (you could feel, now, with your fingers that his rings had left a mark, starting to bite into your neck enough to break the first couple layers of skin).

“Hey, Trevor, c’mere.” He finally said after a long moment of silence, and Brown Eyes, – _Trevor,_ – who had previously been facing away from the two of you, watching for danger, turned around and in two long strides was standing next to his comrade, crouching down so that he was precariously balanced on his toes. His dark eyes matched dark, well-groomed hair that seemed unaffected from the short scuffle.

“This is Trevor, and I’m Ryan.” Blue Eyes said, and you nodded in greeting (and then immediately grimacing from the movement, for you are nothing if not an idiot).

“[Y/N].” You replied, and smiled at the way that Trevor glanced at Ryan before copying the smile-and-nod gesture that the (presumably older) man gave. _Apprentice_ , you guessed internally. You hadn’t met many vampires but you had a _lot_ of books and a handful of encounters – although Ryan and Trevor were much nicer than those you’d met previously.

“Alright, [Y/N]. I can’t in good conscious just leave you here, or drop you off at your home, with the risk of Ugly Shark Tooth Guy coming after you. So, the only real option here is to bring you back to our home – that is, as long as you don’t object to it. I’m not in the business of forcing not-hostile people to do things.” Ryan said.

You weighed the options in your mind. Your fish, you knew, could survive a night without being fed. You had your phone, and your wallet, and as far as you knew there wasn’t anything going on in the morning that warranted having to be somewhere. These men were strangers, yes, but by the brightness of their auras, they are well-fed even after helping you fend off your attackers, so it would do them no good to trick you into being a meal for the night. Plus, they helped you, and if you were completely honest with yourself, you were fighting the urge to cry or scream because you were still scared shitless over the whole ordeal and you weren’t about to bite the hand that feeds.

“Okay. I – I can do that. Just – I know it’s not a great idea, but can we sit here for just another minute?” You tried to keep your voice level, but it petered off towards the end, and judging by their twin sympathetic smiles, Ryan and Trevor definitely noticed. You berated yourself for it for a moment, before berating yourself for berating yourself. You were just chased halfway through the city and then attacked for reasons unknown to you, that was understandable, right? _Right._


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains some (nerf) guns and blood/minor injury mentions.   
> Originially posted at adscititious-cacoethes.tumblr.com

Ryan and Trevor, it turned out, didn’t live too far from where you had met them, in penthouse apartments that were at the top of a very fancy building. You opened your mouth to ask, but before you could say anything, Trevor leaned down and whispered, “Geoff – you’ll meet him in a bit – he likes his security and has a flair for the dramatic.” You closed your mouth and nodded.

After a long elevator ride, in which Ryan found a single-use wet wipe in his pocket so you could at least get the blood off your face, the doors dinged and slid open, and you were immediately accosted with the smell of wet dog as a shorter, stocky man ran face-first into Ryan.

“Ry, help, you gotta help, the lads –” He couldn’t finish his sentence, however, as two more men burst into view and started running towards the elevator, shooting what looked like – Nerf guns?

“Woah now, alright.” Trevor said, laughing and pulling you behind him so you were out of the line of fire. Ryan rolled his eyes and patted the shorter man – who was now trying to get around Ryan to use him as a shield – on the back with one hand and gestured Trevor to go ahead with the other.

“Ceasefire! Ceasefire!” Trevor shouted half-heartedly, seemingly unsurprised when the Nerf-armed men didn’t react and escorted you down the marbled hallway, doing his best to shield you from stray Nerf-fire. As you walked past the two men, they both waved, the taller one starting to say something before it turned into an unintelligible squawk at the sound of Ryan’s booming voice shouting  _“Gavin!”_

“Right this way, don’t mind the idiots.” Trevor said, ushering you quickly around a corner. As you followed Trevor down another (albeit shorter) hall, there was a distinctive _thump_ sound of someone falling on the floor amid more squawking and laughter. You looked down at your watch.

“It’s nearly two in the morning! How are they so awake?” You whispered, half-asking Trevor and half-asking yourself as you stifled a yawn. Trevor just chuckled.

“It happens.” He said as he led you through a hefty oak door and into a room.

 

***

 

‘Geoff’, it turned out, was someone you’d seen before. His dark hair was unkempt and his eyes seemed sleepy, but they glanced around the room, assessed you and Trevor standing in the doorway of a kitchen, with such quickness that you knew that the last thing he was, was sleepy.

“What the dicks did you and Ryan do this time?” Geoff asked, scrubbing a hand over his face and sighing. The larger, ginger-bearded man next to him chuckled slightly. They both, simultaneously, lifted their drinks off the island countertop they were sitting at and drank. Blinking, you could See the royal blue aura swirl around the other man, while Geoff's was a deep purple with crackling streaks of white.

“In our defense, we didn’t do anything. She ran into us, and then her assailants ran into us, and then they ran away.” Trevor explained vaguely, resting a hand on your shoulder as he did so.

“Care to elaborate?” Geoff sighed again - even heavier, if that was possible.

You shifted your feet a little, glancing up at Trevor, who just smiled down at you, “Uh, well, I’m [Y/N], and I was closing up my shop for the night and walking home when these two men started following me. So I started running, and then they started running, and at some point they pulled out guns, and I turned a corner and literally ran into Ryan and Trevor and they helped me, and then an Unseelie appeared out of nowhere – I’m assuming using some sort of illusion, because we’re not in the business of invisibility – and nearly strangled me but Ryan shot him and then he teleported, I think, and the whole thing was very scary considering he clearly knew who I was but I have _no idea_ who he is and – ” You broke off a little bit, voice still raspy, tears stinging at your eyes and threatening to fall, but then Trevor squeezed your shoulder just ever so slightly, and you swallowed hard, “and yeah. That’s uh, that’s about it.” You finished, swallowing again and thanking all that is good in the world for allowing you to get through something without crying for _once_ in your life.

Geoff looked at you thoughtfully, but it was the man next to him that spoke first, “An Unseelie? ‘We’ aren’t in the business?” he asked, probing but still kind.

“Uh, yeah, I could tell he was Unseelie from his scars. And he bled blue when Ryan shot him.” You gestured to your shirt, where a smattering of dark blue, still-drying blood went clear down your torso, “And I mean, um, I’m fae too – but I’m from the Seelie Court – well, not the Court itself, I’m no royalty, I just mean I’m not Unseelie, they’re not very nice – not, not that we have a reputation of being nice either and – well, if that bothers you, I can go, it’s not a problem, I know we’re not always welcome, even in the, uh – _company_ – of non-humans…” You stumbled over your words before trailing off when you realized that Geoff was laughing.

Laughing!

You weren’t sure what that meant, so you just shifted your feet a little and dropped your gaze to the floor, willing yourself to keep your tears at bay for just a _little bit longer_. You felt Trevor’s thumb rub small circles where his hand still laid heavy on your shoulder, and you couldn’t tell anymore if it was for comfort or if it was to keep you there because Geoff was still laughing, he was laughing hysterically, and neither of the other men were stopping him, in fact you thought you could hear the red-haired man laughing, too, and –

“Jesus Christ, dude! _Unwelcome_! You _did_ pass Michael and Gavin on the way in, right? If those idiots have _keys,_ why would _you_ be unwelcome!” Geoff finally spat out, still cackling intermittently between words.

You looked up at him through your lashes, “Uh, I – I don’t know?” you admitted, uncertain, mind flashing back to all of the “talks” your parents had with you about how fae historically don’t have a great reputation and to always be careful because “not everyone thinks of the Seelie Court rather pleasantly.”

Geoff, for his credit, just laughed harder, wiping tears from his eyes.

“Jack, think we could find something close to [Y/N]’s size, so she can change and get her throat looked at? I can see it purpling from here.” Geoff said, finally calming down, and the other man – _Jack_ – let out a cheery, “Sure, Geoff!” before disappearing…literally.

“Whoops, sorry, Jack does that, he’s –” Trevor started, but you cut him off as nicely as you could, “Djinn, I know. I can See it.”

“Why don’t you come take a seat, [Y/N]? Take a load off, you’ve had an eventful night, and now you’re in the company of a houseful of idiots.” Geoff offered, the only indication that he heard your interjection being a slight raise of an eyebrow. You nodded, and Geoff slid off the barstool he was sitting on and plodded down the three small steps into what you assumed was the living room (based on décor), you and Trevor following close behind. As Geoff settled into an armchair and you practically fell onto one of the multiple sofas that crowded the room, Trevor let his hand slip from your shoulder. Turning in your seat, you saw him walking back through the kitchen towards the door that you had come through. You thought that you did it casually, but Geoff must have seen some sort of _something_ , because he just chuckled.

“Don’t worry, he’ll be back. He’s probably going to detach Ryan from the lads.” Geoff assured you as the door swung shut behind Trevor. You sighed and turned back to face Geoff, tucking your feet under you and adjusting your wings so that you could settle back against the cushions.

“You know, you don’t have to hide them here.” Geoff said, gesturing slightly above your head, “No pressure, of course. I wouldn’t go full-out fae, though, ‘cause some of the others haven’t really encountered faeries.”

You nodded. Most people – Normal or not – haven’t _really_ encountered faeries. All fae are able to “shapeshift”, or make an illusion, in a way, so that they can appear human but with wings. This takes little to no energy – to the point that even infants will shift back and forth between the two. Add a little more energy (still not enough to really warrant concentration or thought, though, unless very ill (unlikely) or close to death (slightly more likely)), and the wings disappear, as well, leaving a very plain, ordinary-looking human that retains the same basic body characteristics as the fae counterpart.

You weighed the thought in your mind, then decided that if they were going to kill you they probably would’ve done it already, and they know you’re a faery so _fuck it_ and you let down your illusion. Some fae could actually, _physically_ shape-shift, like shifters and werewolves, but you were not one of them, so you relied on your inherent illusionary magic, like most other fae did.

“So, which one from _Tinker Bell_ are you?” Geoff asked once you shed the illusion, and while you made a face at his comparison, he was sort of right. All fae had the same basic qualities, traits, and abilities. Some fae can be trained to become stronger (like using aura to create barriers and weapons) and some, like the stupid chain of direct-to-DVD Disney movies implied, were born able to utilize and/or were better at a few specific thing(s).

“For the record, I don’t think you should make that reference around the aforementioned others who “haven’t really encountered” fae. But illusions, mostly. I’m better at that than anything else. And I possess the Sight, but that’s hardly fae-exclusive.” You replied, smiling a little at the way Geoff’s eyebrows shot into his hairline.

“Well color me surprised. It’s been decades since I’ve ran into someone with the Sight. I doubt most of the boys will even know what you’re talking about if you reference it. Can you Predict, as well?” Geoff asked, leaning forward a little in his chair.

“Uh, not that I know of? All things considering, I’m still pretty young. There’s potential for it to develop. But my Mentor in the Seelie Court thinks it's unlikely, because she started Predicting in her dreams when she was _much_ younger than I am. Also, you can’t be colored surprised, you’re purple.” Geoff barked out a laugh at that.

“Am I really? Last person I came across refused to tell me what she Saw. Almost didn’t believe her until she stopped me from going into a business deal on the full moon on account of the other party was a bunch of werewolves that were planning to rip me to shreds.” Geoff continued to chuckle, sipping his drink, and you forced out a smile.

Your father said that Geoff was a “business contact”. Now you weren’t quite sure what kind of business he had been talking about.

You were trying to decide whether or not to ask when the door behind you burst open, making you jump and whip around.

“Oh, sorry, hi there [Y/N], sorry I left you and Trevor to fend for yourselves during Geoff’s interrogation, I couldn’t get Jeremy off my back and then Gavin managed to nail me in the Adam’s Apple and…well…you get my point.” Ryan said, striding towards you, Trevor close behind and Jack bringing up the rear with a folded bundle in his arms. You settled down, realizing with embarrassment that you were hovering off the couch about an inch.

Jack handed you the bundle – which upon closer inspection was clothes with a little white mason jar laying on top – with a smile, “Luckily, Meg left some clothes over at Gavin’s the other day, so these should probably fit you well. Trevor here can show you one of the spare rooms where you can shower and change. Clean your neck as best you can and then rub some of this stuff on it – it’ll sting a little, but it’ll make your bruises fade fast.”

“Thank you.” You said earnestly, smiling up at the man. You stood and turned to look at Trevor, expecting him to show you where to go, only to find him staring at you – well, staring _above_ you. You sighed, frowning, before taking a deep breath and hiding your wings again. Jack nudged him with his elbow and Trevor blinked rapidly before gesturing towards the door.

“Uh, right, sorry, right this way!” He announced, hurrying forward with long strides, and you could’ve sworn you saw his cheeks turn a little pink ( _that is impossible,_ you reminded yourself, _he’s a vampire_ ).

You still tucked it away as a reminder to do some research when you were back at your shop.

“So, Trevor.” You started, letting your wings push you forward _just_ a little bit to keep up with his long strides.

“So, [Y/N].” Trevor echoed, looking down at you.

“Are you a ‘don’t let me see that again’ guy or a ‘can I see that more’ guy?” You asked.

Trevor’s eyebrows shot towards his hairline, mouth slightly agape, “I don’t know what you just said but it sounded inappropriate. Suggestive, even.”

You laughed and shook your head, “No, the wings. You were staring.”

“Ohhhhhhh” Trevor drew it out, nodding sagely for a moment before his eyes went wide, almost comically large, “That was rude, probably, right? I’m sorry.” Trevor rubbed at the back of his neck with one hand, slowing down to almost a stop, head hung low. You stepped forward a little bit, stopping completely, so that you could see him (and he could see you).

“Our wings are a source of pride, when we’re in situations where we can show them. It’s not rude at all. Now, if I was one of the super-duper old faeries that was a part of the Court, I might be offended, but times have changed, and the offense wouldn’t’ve come from the staring.” You smiled at him, trying to reassure him – you tried to tell yourself that it was because he helped you Not Die and is a nice person or whatever but really it was because he’s a cutie and the last thing you wanted to do was scare him away.

Either it worked or he realized that maybe you were a little too close for strangers, because he nodded and smiled back, his whole face brightening with the gesture, and then he was walking again, practically bouncing around a corner and down another hall. You were surely lost at this point, there’s no way a building this size could have this many hallways, and you made a mental note to ask Geoff if he enchanted the place or something, but you eventually caught up to Trevor, who was waiting by a door.

“This is one of the guest rooms, Jack told me to tell you that you can stay here for the night and that if you’re tired you don’t have to come back to the living room and chat.” Trevor told you as he pushed open the door.

“Well then.” You said, looking at the room from the doorway. It was easily bigger than your entire apartment, and although it was sparsely decorated it was still cozy, with a large bed and a TV and a small desk in the corner. It was dimly lit, but there were two small windows on either side of the bed letting in both street- and moonlight. You looked down at the plush, expensive-looking rug that covered the area just inside the door and almost didn’t want to step on it in your worn and dirty shoes.

“You okay?” Trevor asked from behind you, making you jump a bit.

“Uh, yeah, just bigger than I expected.”

“That’s your second innuendo of the night! You’re on a roll! Now c’mon, I’m sure you want to get a shower.” Trevor beamed at you, stepping around you and waltzing into the room. You followed, setting the bundle given to you by Jack on the bed before plopping down yourself and bringing a foot up to untie the laces of your shoes.

“I didn’t realize that my vernacular speech was so dirty.” You said, peeling the shoe off your foot and lifting the other one to do the same.

“Well, we’re learning all kinds of things tonight, then, good for us!” Trevor was in the bathroom at this point, and you could hear the shower curtain squeal across the metal pole for a moment before he shouted out to you, “How hot do you like your shower?”

“Just this side of bearable.” You replied, and there was a beat of silence before Trevor’s head poked around the half-open bathroom door.

“ _Really_?” He asked incredulously, one eyebrow raised.

“Just for tonight. I know I wiped off that blood but it still feels nasty.” You explained, and he nodded before ducking back into the bathroom. You stretched and ran a hand through your hair, hearing the shower turn on, and a few minutes later Trevor stepped back into the room.

“So, you should have anything you’d ever want in there – Jack likes to keep extras of everything in the guest rooms in case we run out or have unexpected guests. I just checked and there are towels, so you’re good there. And uh, yeah. I can get out of your hair now.” He chuckled and rubbed at the back of his neck again.

You sighed, picking up the bundle of clothes and walking towards the bathroom, “If you’d like, you can stay. I don’t mind and if I’m honest, I have no idea what’s going on with my life right now so it’d be kind of comforting to know that someone else is nearby while I’m in the shower ‘cause that’s like, a vulnerable place to be and whatever.” You sort of rushed the words out as you pushed the door open and set the clothes on the counter in the bathroom, hoping that what you’d said made sense (or at the very least, if it didn’t, Trevor still understood what you meant).

“You got it, boss!” You heard Trevor say as you closed the door, still giggling as you brushed your hair and stripped and stepped into the shower.

The water was perfectly “just this side of bearable”, as requested, which made you happy as you chose from the at least a dozen each hotel-sized shampoos and soaps and conditioners, letting your illusions fall and taking your time to scrub yourself clean in the privacy of a closed shower in a locked bathroom.

After your nice, long shower, you wrapped yourself up in an _extremely_ fluffy towel and wiped away some steam from the mirror, staring at your Marks for any signs of change.

Well, fae called them Marks, anyone else would probably refer to them as tattoos. Every faery child is born with a Mark, the nature and design unique to the child but also conforms to the family bloodline. As a child grew up, experienced new things and events that shaped them as a person, the Mark would grow and change.

Your family bloodline seemed keen to vineyards, and you were no exception, a single grape leaf starting in your palm, the vine wrapping up your arm and across your collarbones, just barely reaching your right shoulder, an offshoot dipping down towards your belly button and another, smaller one inching up your neck. Here and there, another grape leaf appeared – you had concluded a long time ago that those are people of significance either coming into or leaving your life. The pale green contrasted nicely with the rosy glow of your skin (or at least that’s what your mother always told you). You searched and searched, convinced that this strange encounter warranted _something_ , but to no avail. Sighing, you half-heartedly convinced yourself that Marks don’t always start growing and changing immediately, and you willed your illusion back up to cover your Marks and change your skin tone.

You carefully and gently applied the cream that Jack had given you – immediately feeling cool, tingly relief where you had forgotten that you needed it – before putting your undergarments back on, as well as the T-shirt and leggings that Jack had given you.

Opening the door gave a burst of cold air, and you shivered slightly.

“Hi there.” You heard off to the right, and sure enough, Trevor was sitting in the chair at the desk, scrolling through if phone with his feet propped up on the corner. The light from the bathroom and from his phone were the only lights in the room, Trevor must’ve drawn the blinds and curtains closed on the windows.

“You stayed.” You blurted out before you could stop yourself, immediately feeling heat rise to your cheeks.

“You asked.” Trevor responded, and you could see his smile through the soft light.

You opened your mouth to speak, but instead a yawn came out, and suddenly your whole body felt like lead.

“I’ll get out of your hair for real this time, then. I’m actually the next door down, so when you get up and whatever you can stop by. I realized while you were in the bathroom that I probably was walking too fast for you to remember how the fuck to get back to the kitchen.” Trevor chuckled a little, and you couldn’t help but giggle, too.

“Alright, thank you, Trevor.” You beamed at him as he gracefully stood from his chair and walked out the door, muttering a ‘goodnight’ before closing it.

You collapsed face-first onto the bed and were asleep within minutes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on adscititious-cacoethes.tumblr.com

You had no idea how long you had been asleep before you were jolted awake by screaming coming from outside of your room. You shot up out of bed (a little too hard, almost hitting the ceiling, _whoops_ ), expecting the worst, but then the shouting dissolved into laughter and you relaxed.

You settled back into the pile of pillows and checked your phone for a few minutes, seeing that it was almost noon and sending your mother a text good morning so that she didn’t worry that you hadn’t talked to her yet today. After a couple of minutes, the laughter faded away, but you figured it’d be best to stick it out for a few minutes, remembering the Nerf battle from last night (or, early this morning, if you really wanted to be picky about it – which you did). So you did some bathroom stuff so you didn’t look or smell like a complete mess, threw out your clothes (they were dirty and after last night you couldn’t imagine yourself ever wanting to wear them again, anyway), and then took a seat at the desk in the corner.

You were halfway through your emails when there was a soft knock on your door. You quickly looked down and double-checked that you hadn’t dropped your illusion in your sleep before wrenching open the door.

“Good afternoon!” Trevor was standing on the other side of the door, hands clasped behind his back. He beamed down at you, but you could still see his eyes flick up above your head for just a second or two.

“Hi. Come to collect me so I can get out of your house and whatever?” You asked, leaning against the door a little.

“Uh, no?” Trevor cocked his head to the side a little bit, running a hand through his black hair, “Just figured you’d be hungry. I mean, you should probably go home at some point, but everyone is Pretty Interested in the whole apparent hit on your life, so Geoff wanted to talk to you some more about it.”

Your stomach dropped a little bit. As thankful as you were for their help and hospitality, you hardly wanted to bring what seemed like at least six other people into this whole shitshow. Especially when one of them was a business contact of your father’s (not that Geoff knew that yet, to your knowledge, at least).

“I…I don’t want to be a nuisance, my dad has a lot of contacts, as soon as I go visit him and tell him about it, I’m sure it won’t take long for the whole ordeal to be resolved.” You rubbed the back of your leg with your other foot, using your wings to balance yourself out.

“Trust me, [Y/N], this isn’t a nuisance to us. This is –” Trevor cut himself off, “– well, I’ll let Geoff explain, he’s the boss-man. What’s your opinion on Chinese takeout?”

You sighed and accepted your fate. You knew better than to try to argue your way out of this with Trevor, considering the circumstances, so you just nodded an affirmation, tried not to blush at the wide, toothy smile he sent you, and followed him to the kitchen.

 

***

 

After your stomach was full and a brief conversation with Jack about where to put your trashed clothing (he said not to worry, _just leave them there, I’ll take care of it_ , before hurrying off in a puff of blue smoke), you found yourself sitting in a plush, upholstered armchair on one side of a monstrous mahogany desk, Trevor standing behind your left shoulder, with Geoff on the other side and a woman you hadn’t yet met with dyed-blonde hair and a soft smile sitting next to you. The walls were covered with wood carvings and paintings and memorabilia, and you couldn’t tell if it was a show of impressive wealth or if Geoff just enjoyed the “over-decorated” look. Thinking back to what Trevor had told you with his “flair for the dramatic”, you were leaning towards the former.

“[Y/N], this is Lindsay, she’s Michael’s wife.” Geoff gestured to the other woman, who gave you a warm greeting and a wave before going back to reading something on the stack of files and loose papers piled on her lap. You blinked, and a rainbow of color practically exploded around her.

_Huh._ You thought, _that’s interesting._ You would have to look up Lindsay’s aura when you were at your shop again (if you would be able to go back to your shop again).

You returned the greeting before turning to Geoff, watching his hands fold under his chin. His eyes flicked up to Trevor, and you watched as Geoff opened his mouth and then snapped it shut again before turning his attention to you.

“So, I don’t think I need to tell you that this whole thing is not great for you, right?” Geoff began, and you did your best not to chuckle.

“Nope. I appreciate your help and hospitality, but my father can surely handle this. I know as soon as I tell him what happened, he’ll want to keep fae issues between fae.” You said dismissively, hoping that Geoff would understand the sentiment. Your father was an old faery, and he hated dragging other people into his business – or, in this case, it was _your_ business, but if you had to hazard a guess, you’d guess that it had something to do with your father, regardless.

Something flashed in Geoff’s eyes, and a glimmer of recognition passed his face, “You’re Robin [Y/L/N]’s kid, aren’t you?” He asked, and you heard Lindsay gasp on your left.

“Uh, yes? Is this a bad thing?” You shifted uncomfortably in your seat, suddenly aware that just because you recognized Geoff because of your father didn’t mean that was a _good thing._

Geoff broke into a grin, “No, that’s not a bad thing. I think I should explain what, exactly, it is we do.”

 

***

 

“So you’re criminals.” You said, leaning forward and resting your elbows on your knees.

Geoff grimaced, “No.”

“Vigilantes?”

“No, we actually work with the law.”

“See, you said that, but given that the reason why I recognized you as a business contact of my father’s is because he’s your _lawyer_ makes me think otherwise, just a tiny bit.” Geoff’s explanation of what they do, exactly, was ridiculous, to say the least. He even described themselves as “supernatural police”. Given, Lindsay immediately interjected at that point, stating that was a poor comparison and Geoff should be ashamed of himself, which devolved into fifteen minutes of bickering before they got back on track, but still.

You could see why they needed your father as a business contact.

“My point here is, [Y/N], if you called up your father right now, and explained what happened but completely left out the fact that you were _here_ , and you were talking to _me_ , he would probably call me up _anyway_ to help him figure out what’s going on. So really, you’re skipping a step here, already.” Geoff scrubbed his hand over his face as he talked, as though he really, _really_ didn’t want to be involved, which made you feel sheepish – Geoff probably had better things to do than take care of the daughter of a client – but then you felt a cool hand on your shoulder, squeezing slightly. You tilted your head back to see Trevor smiling down at you. Not a large, toothy grin but a soft smile. Looking over, Lindsay caught your eye and gave you a nod.

Maybe “exasperated” was just Geoff’s natural state.

“Oh…kay. So, uh. Forgive me, but what – what exactly is going to happen? Like, now? Should I call my dad? Do – do I have to stay here? Not that it’s bad here but like…I do have responsibilities. And fish.”

Geoff started laughing – a cackling, wheezing sort of thing that made you jump a little at the suddenness of it.

“Ryan and Geoff and I will talk to your pops. Saves an extra phone call. For now, you don’t have to stay with us, but I think we both know that Robin won’t want you all alone.” Lindsay said, smiling at you and writing some stuff down on the top page of her stack.

“If you don’t mind hosting company, I don’t think any of us will mind if you go back home to you and your _fish._ ” Geoff added, still wheezing. 

You really didn’t think that having a fish was that funny, but you weren’t about to tell Geoff that, given that your life was essentially in his hands now.

_Oh wow._

_You’re fucked._


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted on adscititious-cacoethes.tumblr.com

You knew exactly when Geoff and Ryan got off the phone with your father, because your phone was assaulted with a slew of texts from him, most admonishing you for walking around alone at night, not calling him immediately, one notable message telling you that it was both the best and worst decision of your life to trust Ryan (and Trevor, but you were pretty sure your father was more concerned about your trust of Ryan). Any attempt to explain your logic ( _read: fear_ ) was shot down by another string of texts, equal parts furious and concerned. You would’ve thought that it would be hard to portray that kind of emotion via text, but your father was doing a surprisingly good job. You knew that your only saving grace was that your parents were out of town together for a couple of weeks – father on business, mother on vacation – and therefore they couldn’t come to you in person to worry and discuss what was going on. As much as you loved your parents, they were both extremely overprotective and a little bit old-fashioned, and you were pretty sure that them being around would only make things worse – especially if Geoff and Lindsay’s suspicions are correct, and their target is really your father.

Needless to say, you weren’t exactly excited with the whole situation.

To make things worse, you expected a brightly-smiling Trevor on the other side of the door when you answered a rather insistent knock, only to find not one, but two people who were definitely Not Trevor. One was rather lanky and tan, with dirty blond hair and a rather large nose dominating his face. Next to him, a slightly shorter, slightly broader man with curly brown hair and glasses stood scowling, arms crossed. It took you a moment, but your brain eventually recognized that these were the two be-Nerfed men from last night. You had forgotten, for a brief moment, that there were other people here besides the five that you had been interacting with so far.

“Um, hi?” You said, and the taller man started staring at a spot above your head. You put up your illusionary glamor and his eyes went wide for a moment before dropping down to meet yours.

“Hey, I’m Michael, this fuck is Gavin, we’re here to take you home.” The shorter one said, dropping his arms to shove his hands into his pockets. Gavin nodded and added an affirmation. You briefly felt your courtesy-clerk smile droop at the edges, but you mentally shook yourself.

“[Y/N].”

_Of course it’s not always going to be Trevor. He has better things to do, probably._

“Ready to go?” Gavin asked, bouncing on his toes a bit.

You nodded and asked for a moment, shoving your shoes back on your feet while trying to gather your thoughts together. You almost couldn’t believe that you were actually _disappointed_ that it wasn’t Trevor going with you ( _babysitting,_ your brain couldn’t help but remind you), but if you were honest, he was pretty cute, plus he was familiar, unlike the two men who were now standing in the doorway having an argument about…circumcision?

“Okay, ready, sorry.” You said, standing up straight and brushing non-existent dust off of your shirt.

Both men stopped mid-sentence and snapped their mouths shut, Gavin looking at you wide-eyed for a moment before Michael jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow, causing a loud squawk to rip from Gavin’s throat.

“Not a problem,” Michael said, stepping out of the doorway and dragging Gavin by the elbow, “let’s get going.”

You had hoped that you would be able to mentally map out at least part of Geoff’s “penthouse” (which was _surely_ enchanted, if the fact that the walls and doors had all changed color since lunch), but with Michael and Gavin yammering at each other and at you, by the time you reached the elevator you felt like you were more lost than you were before.

So, of course, you pointed this out to Michael.

“Geoff likes that shit. He just builds new hallways and whatever whenever he feels like it. It’s like the moving staircases in _Harry Potter_.” Michael told you as he punched the button for the ground floor.

“But, like, how do you get anywhere if he keeps changing stuff?” You asked, leaning up against the corner of the elevator.

“Lots of guessing.” Gavin said, shooting you a blinding smile.

 

***

 

Apparently, they have their own garage. And apparently, Geoff liked to fuck with the layout of that, too, because it took a solid twenty minutes for Michael and Gavin to find a vehicle that they actually had keys to. By the time they stumbled upon a fancy SUV-type thing with chrome rims, Michael was fuming – _literally_. It took you a moment to notice, but the campfire smell that you had noticed clinging onto him in the elevator was amplified tenfold as you slid into the passenger seat, relegating Gavin to the back.

“I’m gonna kill Geoff. I’m gonna fucking murder him.” Michael murmured under his breath as he slammed the SUV into drive and peeled out of the garage, causing you to jump and hold onto the door while Gavin screamed and flailed around in the back.

After a few minutes, Michael finally slowed down and stopped weaving through traffic and tailgating people, in favor of looking over at you sheepishly.

“I uh, I don’t know where we’re going.” He admitted. You laughed and looked at street signs, trying to gather your bearings as Gavin squealed _What? Michael!_ behind you.

You pointed to the traffic light, “Turn right at the light. I live on 17th, on the west side. Southside Apartments.” You saw Michael nod in your peripherals and drum his fingers on the steering wheel.

“I know exactly where that is.” He said, at the same time Gavin piped up from the back with, “Why is it called Southside if it’s west side?”

Michael dramatically rolled his eyes and took the corner a little _too_ fast, prompting Gavin to let out a litany of strange noises and his face almost smashed into the glass.

“Shut the fuck up, Gavin.”

 

***

 

You had forgotten that Michael and Gavin were actually supposed to be babysitters until they pulled up at your apartment complex. You went to get out of the car and there was suddenly a firm grip on your arm, Michael’s hand very warm and very much pulling you back inside.

“Nuh-uh, now. You stay here with Gavin, give me your keys, I’m gonna go make sure your place is okay, okay?” You blinked, taken aback a little bit, but you felt yourself nodding regardless and handing over your keys.

Michael was out of the car in an instant, tossing the key back to Gavin who clamored over the center console and locked the doors. You blinked and his aura flared to life, a turquoise halo that flowed out of him like waves. He turned in the driver’s seat and smiled at you, and the blinding, calming effect it immediately gave you made so much more sense.

You tried to shake Gavin’s effect off as best you could (while not showing it) and smiled back.

“You doing alright?” Gavin asked, and you could see him turning on the charm. Did you really look that shaken or scared? You felt pretty alright.

Who were you kidding, you were not alright.

The whole ordeal was a little unsettling, considering that in all of the texting that you’d done with your father that afternoon, all of the people you’d talked to (Geoff, Lindsay, Trevor, your father, and now Michael and Gavin) had not said a single thing about who the Unseelie man who had choked you was, what the course of action was going to be, or really anything at all. Beyond discussion about what happened and picking your brain for any potential leads (and getting yelled at via text for trusting Ryan), there was nothing.

The uncertainty of it all was starting to really get to you.

You were someone who liked to be in control of your life, who liked knowing what was going on. Surprises were not enjoyable experiences, and you weren’t sure if “spontaneity” was even in your vocabulary. So this? This was starting to make you very uncomfortable, and you had a sinking feeling that it would only get worse.

You sighed, “I’m alright, Gavin, thanks.” But you guessed that maybe the silence before you answered had gotten too long, because Gavin just raised an eyebrow and cocked his head, fitting you with an incredulous look.

“You sure?” He prodded, and you could see his aura darken around his mouth and throat.

“Yes, I’m sure, and please stop doing that.” You huffed, gesturing to the side of his neck.

Gavin, for his part, had the audacity to look confused, “What?”

“The siren shit, you’re trying to force me to calm down. I promise that I’m not going to jump out of the car or have a panic attack, it’s not a necessary use of energy and effort.”

Gavin furrowed his brow, “You? What? How? How did you what?” He spluttered, and you just tapped your face next to your eyes.

“Sight, dude, I can see your aura shift when you start edging your manipulation-siren-whatever-it’s-called into your voice and actions.” You explained, and Gavin’s eyes went wide.

“So you can see Michael’s horns? And Jack’s butt-wisp?” He asked excitedly, practically bouncing in his seat.

“Uh, no, I can’t see through illusions or shapeshifting. Well, I mean, if I focus enough I can see through illusions. Having the Sight just means that you can see people’s auras. And before you ask, yes I can turn it on and off.” Gavin’s face fell for a moment before he plastered a smile back on.

He opened his mouth to say something but it turned into a terrified screech as a fist thumped on the driver’s side window. Looking past Gavin, you saw an impatient-looking Michael with the side of his hand still resting on the glass, but now there was a black glow around him – well, it was less of a glow and more of a suck, since it sort of had a black-hole effect, and, sure enough, even though you couldn’t actually _see_ any horns, there were spots up by his forehead that seemed just a _tiny bit_ darker than everywhere else, cluing you in to a little bit of energy being funneled to that point.

You wondered idly if Michael was the type of demon who could shape-shift or if it was just an illusion that was making him look human as Gavin rolled down the window.

“Michael, you scared me, Michael! Why would you do that?” Gavin protested weakly.

“Because it was fucking funny, Gav, now get out of the car. The place is clear.” Michael didn’t wait for you or Gavin before turning and heading back towards the entrance to your complex. You scrambled out of the car and slammed the door, letting your wings propel yourself forward a little faster than you could do on foot so that you caught up with Michael, Gavin jogging up behind you.

It was strange, opening up your apartment to Michael and Gavin, who were still sort-of strangers to you. You spent a minute or two just awkwardly standing next to your kitchen island while Michael flopped down on your couch and Gavin looked around your apartment, poking and prodding around at your knick-knacks and piles of books that filled nearly every surface.

It wasn’t until Michael looked up from his phone and realized that you had a neat line of controllers on your coffee table, letting out a high-pitched sound and immediately scooping up the nearest one and beckoning Gavin over so they could find something that Michael could “kick his ass” at, that you relaxed enough to start moving around and _not_ feel like a stranger in your own home.

You hung your keys on their little hook next to the door, slipped your shoes off and tucked them into the closet, and then fed your fish, Gus.

“I’m going to change, I’ll be right back.” You announced to the room, and received twin grunts from the men on your couch (who now seemed to be absorbed in a halo match? You didn’t know you owned halo?), Gavin even going so far to shoot a thumbs-up in your direction before quickly latching back onto his controller.

You heard both Michael and Gavin screaming as you shut your bedroom door. In the span of about sixty seconds, you took a step towards your bed, realized with a jolt that you weren’t alone in your apartment and should probably lock the door, turned to lock the door, realized _then_ that if someone, say, teleported into your room and attacked you (again) it would be harder for Michael and Gavin to help and turned away from the door…again.

“Man, this is fucking _weird_.” You muttered to yourself as you pulled some clothes from your closet – as much as you were thankful that Jack had been able to find something in your size, you were eager to get into your own clothes. It’s more comfortable and you were banking on the familiarity and smell of your own clothes to let the whole situation feel a little less absurd.

By the time you had changed, brushed your hair, and your phone was charged enough to be out of the danger zone, Michael and Gavin had moved on to another game, and you _definitely_ did not own it, judging by the terrified screams ripping out of Gavin’s throat. You pulled open the washing machine in the hall closet and dumped in the borrowed clothes and some stuff pulled from your hamper – you weren’t about to return clothes while they were dirty – and meandered over to the living area.

“That looks scary.” You said, making both Michael and Gavin jump and whip around to face you.

“Resident Evil.” Michael explained, being the first to recover.

“Mhm, so, should I be expecting a charge to my bank account for it?” You asked, leaning your forearms on the back of the couch.

“God no, got Jack to come bring it cause all your games are shite.” Gavin said, laughing.

“Wow, okay, thanks. Michael, what do you want for dinner? Bonus points if it’s something Gavin doesn’t eat.” You teased, pushing off the couch and walking into the kitchen.

“Gavin hates wet bread!” Michael called behind you, overlapped by a _“Michael, no!”_ , and you were beginning to think that those two words were the only ones Gavin knew with the frequency in which he used them.

You eventually settled on pizza, which Michael insisted he answer the door and pay for it while you were Very Much not in eyesight of the poor delivery kid.

After the three of you finished dinner, you grabbed the remote and insisted on HGTV, but not in the “hey let’s make fun of them” way that Gavin and Michael thought you were going for and instead in the “I am actually watching this content to enjoy it” way. During a commercial break, Gavin announced that Geoff wanted him back at the penthouse, so he grabbed Michael’s keys and left, which led to you sheepishly admitting to Michael that the best sleeping arrangement he’ll have for the night is the couch.

“I have an air mattress, but my employee needed it for his sister to stay on when she was visiting last week. He’s supposed to bring it to the store tomorrow. I’m sorry…” You trailed off, staring down at your hands and twiddling your thumbs together. You weren’t sure why you felt so ashamed and apologetic over something this stupid, but now that Gavin was gone (presumably for the night), the fact that holy shit Michael had to stay _with you_ was suddenly a much bigger, more prevalent thought in your mind.

“Hey, don’t worry about it. And besides, I’ll be leaving in a bit anyway.” Michael said, patting you on the shoulder.

You snapped your head up to stare at him, “You are?”

“Relax, we’re not leaving you alone. Besides the fact that we don’t want you to die or otherwise be harmed, _we_ would die or otherwise be harmed if your dad even _suspected_ we left you alone, and you know it.” You felt tension you didn’t know was there ease from your shoulders and nodded. Your father had no problems telling people off when he’s under the impression that they did something wrong – it made him a great lawyer, but that kind of attitude also came with a lot of enemies. If you thought about it, that’s probably what got you into this mess to begin with.

“So, who’s taking the nightshift, then?” You asked, and Michael shrugged.

“I dunno, probably one of the bloodsuckers, they do better than most of the rest of us at night, anyway.”

You fought to flinch at the word – _bloodsuckers_ , it felt so offensive, but Michael said it so flippantly – but the implication was there: whoever was staying with you tonight ( _glorified babysitter, doing their job_ , you reminded yourself ruefully) was probably Ryan or Trevor.

You hoped it was Trevor.

Knowing from your studies how…temperamental…demons could be, you tried to phrase your next sentence as delicately as you could, “Aren’t you accustomed to the dark, as well?”

Michael chuckled, shifting back into the couch cushions, “I’ve become complacent over time. Blame Lindsay.” You let out a breath you hadn’t realized you’d been holding and nodded, picking up the nearest book off the stacks on the coffee table and flipping it open.

****_The Care and Keeping of Werewolves_  
BY:  
Viscount Jethro Tull 

You scoffed at the title, but kept going anyway. Vampires were notorious for twisting their “knowledge” to make themselves seem superior, but just because a former agriculturalist just published a book about werewolves didn’t mean it was a total fallacy. Well, it probably did, but you were going to give him the benefit of the doubt. You felt Michael shift, and vaguely registered him switching over the TV and turning on Zelda as you grabbed a red pen and started marking false “facts” in your book.

 

***

 

A few hours later, when the moon was peeking over the building next door so that light could shine in through the window, both you and Michael jumped at the sound of a buzzer. You closed your book as Michael leaped up from the couch to press the call button by your front door.

“Who’s it?” He barked, and a crackling, _Let us up, dickheads!_ was the immediate response. Michael pressed the button that unlocked the front door, and a few minutes later, Geoff and Trevor were standing in your doorway.

“Hi, there.” You gave an awkward wave from around Michael, who was in between you and the door, shoving his phone in his pocket and pulling on his coat.

“Geoff, what the fuck are you doing here?” Michael asked as Trevor waved back, sending little butterflies straight to your stomach at his crooked smile.

“What? Oh, wanted to meet the fish.” Geoff said, smirking at you. You beckoned him inside, and he pushed past Michael to follow you into the kitchen, where your little blue fish was swimming around in his tank. Geoff immediately bent down to peer into the bowl, trying to create eye contact.

“He’s permanently frowning, but I think he’s happy. His name is Gus.” You told Geoff, who immediately started yowling with laughter.

“Gus! What a stupid fucking name!” He crowed as he gently patted the counter in front of the tank and turned back around to push a confused-looking Michael past Trevor and out the door.

“Uh, bye, then!” Michael called, and you could hear him struggling with a still-laughing Geoff as they disappeared around the corner and down the hall. You scoffed and rubbed your hand over your face.

“What was that about?” You mumbled, running a hand through your hair.

“I’m not sure, but Geoff seems to have taken an interest in your fish.” You nearly jumped out of your skin – you had forgotten that Trevor was still there. You looked up to find him smiling down at you, just inside the doorway with his hand on the knob. You were standing close enough together that he couldn’t close the door without hitting you, first. Heat rose to your face and you took a couple steps backwards.

“Sorry, uh, welcome? You can put your shoes in the closet there.” You pointed towards said closet before turning and trying not to run down the hall to the laundry. At some point, Gavin or Michael must’ve moved your clothes from the washer to the dryer, because you certainly didn’t remember doing it, so you busied yourself folding the clothes up. You could hear Trevor padding around your apartment and assumed that he was nosing around the place, just like Gavin had. Besides the copious amounts of books and stuffed animals that flooded your entire apartment, most of your other décor was either pictures push-pinned to the walls or video game and movie memorabilia. You hadn’t really been bothered by Gavin’s prying around the place, especially after they were so excited about your consoles, but you couldn’t help but feel a little embarrassed at the disorganization (and childishness) of the place, now that you knew it was Trevor moving about the room.

“You have a lot of books.” Trevor called to you as you started moving the piles of folded clothes from the hall to your bedroom.

“Comes with the territory.” You responded, setting the pile of clothes on the bed and turning around, only to let out a surprised gasp when Trevor was standing in the doorway, the remaining clothes you couldn’t carry bundled in his arms.

“Sorry to scare you,” Trevor said immediately, holding out the clothes for you to take, “I just figured it might be easier if I helped.”

You thanked him and took the clothes, turning your attention back to your dresser before Trevor could see your face get any redder.

“What did you mean, ‘comes with the territory?’” He asked after a moment, and nearly startled you again. You weren’t sure why, you _knew_ he was still there, you hadn’t heard his footsteps move away, but you were still caught a little off-guard when you glanced over to see him, leaning casually against the doorframe, watching you.

“I own and operate a bookstore. _Books and More Books_ , over on 7th?” You explained, straightening to face him, even though you still had some shirts to put away.

“I’ve heard of that place, you cater to both types of clientele, right?” Trevor replied, and you nodded.

“First floor is Normal books, second and third floors are accessed through a secret entrance by the restrooms. They hold all the cool stuff. I keep my collection as varied as I can, and I don’t sell bullshit books. Which is why I have so many here. Get sent a copy or buy a copy from the publisher, take a look, and decide whether it’s something respectable. I’m sure you know how elitist some of these guys get, spreading rumors and lies like their facts just because they want to think they’re better than another species.” You told Trevor.

He nodded, smiling at you and pushing off of the doorframe, “That’s super cool of you. It’s nice to know that some people value accuracy over species loyalty and entitlement.”

You couldn’t help but beam at Trevor’s praise. He thought something you did was _cool_! You did your best to not let your excitement show, just nodding a bit and going back to putting away your laundry.

“Yeah, when I was little I would get told all this shit, and then I would go home and my dad would be like, ‘[Y/N], everything they’re telling you is a lie. Read this, it’s written by a friend, it’s a thousand times more accurate because they actually _are_ xyz species,’ and it just sort of spiraled from there.” Trevor hummed in understanding, and then you heard him take a couple of steps forward.

“Let me save you some time, then – I saw the book you’re currently reading, don’t bother with it. Viscount Tull doesn’t know what the fuck he’s talking about. He and Ryan have beef, I think, but Ryan hates him and told me that the guy’s a piece of shit.” Trevor’s socked feet were now visible out of the corner of your eye. You swallowed hard and shook your head.

 “That’s what I was thinking, but I had only read the first dozen or so pages. Thanks for letting me know.” You said, shutting the drawer and looking up at him (which involved craning your neck _just_ a little bit and _wow_ , you hadn’t realized just how tall he was until this moment, _shit he’s tall_ ).

He was smiling down at you, something soft in his eyes, and the two of you stood like that for what felt like eternity but was only a few seconds before you both were jolted out of _whatever that was_ by your phone chirping in your pocket.

“Shit, that’s probably Blaine, wondering why the shop didn’t open today and if that means he doesn’t have to work tomorrow.” You said, pulling the phone out and unlocking it. Now that there was something between you and Trevor, he seemed to realize just _how close_ the two of you were and he took a generous step backwards, cocking his head to the side and raising an eyebrow. Sure enough, it was Blaine, asking about work the next day.

“Blaine is my sole employee. He does the heavy lifting so I don’t have to.” You explained in response to Trevor’s silent question while responding to Blaine that _yes,_ there was work tomorrow, and _no,_ you hadn’t died, and _maybe_ , you could take a day off once in a while without being quizzed like a victim of the Spanish Inquisition.

You weren’t about to explain to Blaine what happened last night over text.

“Ah.” Trevor said, and you looked up from your phone to see that he had moved to start inspecting your room. The walls were your favorite color and about 50% of the bed was covered in throw pillows and stuffed animals. More plush friends lined shelves above the bed, with framed photos of family and friends interspersed.

Trevor picked up the closest thing on the bed – a soft bunny with a pink bow.

“Sorry.” You said immediately, and Trevor snapped his head over to look at you.

“For what?”

“The stuffed animals. There’s a lot of them, they’re childish, they’re everywhere…” You trailed off, shrugging.

“There’s nothing wrong with that. You like them, they mean something to you. All I was going to do was tell you that I like this one,” He said, sort of shaking the bunny a little in his hand, “he’s cute.”

You bit the inside of your lip to stop yourself from grinning like an idiot, “Oh, okay. Uh, thanks.”

Trevor beamed at you, all teeth (but not in the creepy way), laugh lines crinkling at the corners of his eyes, and set the bunny back down. Your breath caught in your throat a little bit at how cute he was, and how nice he was being, and how cute he was, and how he seemed to be genuinely interested in you as a being, and how cute he was.

Trevor was super cute, and you couldn’t decide if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

“So, anyway, when are we going to be heading to your store tomorrow? I’m assuming you want to get back to work.” Trevor said, rounding the bed and heading back toward the hallway.

Your heart was pounding and your stomach felt like it was doing flips, and you had never been more thankful for a change in topic, “Uh, yeah, probably should leave by like ten? I don’t have set times, so it doesn’t really matter. We can leave earlier if it’s easier for you.”

“Nah, I made sure to bring my sunscreen, ten is fine. Plus, it doesn’t really affect us beyond not being quite as strong or as fast and whatever, but I’m sure you know that.” Trevor followed you into the kitchen, where you started heating up water for some tea before bed.

“Yeah, but in my defense, it takes a while to get to the point where it doesn’t hurt. You look like you’re in your mid-twenties, I can’t tell.” You retorted, hovering for a minute to pull two mugs off of the top shelf in a cabinet.

“Touché.” Trevor conceded, bowing a little bit, which looked ridiculous and made you giggle.

The two of you stood at your kitchen counter on either side of Gus, sipping tea in silence. Trevor wrapped both of his hands around the mug, long fingers overlapping.

“I only have the couch for you tonight, sorry.” You said after a few minutes of silence.

“That’s fine, I don’t need to tell you that I don’t need much sleep, if at all,” Trevor responded with a shrug, “why don’t you hit the hay, yeah? It’s getting late. I’ll take care of these.” He gestured to the mugs, now empty on the counter.

“You sure? You’re a guest, technically, after all. I should do like, host things.” You responded, making Trevor laugh.

“I’m sure. Now head to bed, missy!” He playfully shooed you out of the kitchen and down the hall. You didn’t realize how tired you were until you sat down on your bed after changing into pajamas. Flopping backwards into the mound of plush pillows and stuffed toys, you were asleep before you could even remember that you didn’t tell Trevor where to find the spare blankets.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter talks a bit about djinn (genies). If you want to know more or are confused, I suggest this website: djinnuniverse.com/a-short-course-on-the-djinn because it has both the religious roots of djinn as well as the more "mythical" stuff and is an easier read than the wikipedia article.
> 
> Originally posted at adscititious-cacoethes.tumblr.com

You woke up to your phone ringing on your nightstand. Groggily, you pulled yourself forward and grabbed at it blindly.

“Hullo?” You asked, pressing the phone to your ear.

_“Hey, [Y/N], so just to let you know, I opened my curtains to see what the weather was like and there’s two guys in rather interesting outfits standing outside of the store.”_ It was Blaine – he lived in an apartment across the street from the bookstore, above a nice kelpie florist. You immediately sat bolt upright, scrambling out of the bed and literally flying to the door.

“What do they look like? Do they have guns?” You asked, ripping the door open and flying (literally, using your wings, Trevor had already seen them, after all) down the hall and into the kitchen, where Trevor was scrolling through his phone with one hand and drinking a cup of coffee with the other (later you’d wonder how he got coffee when you didn’t drink any, and he would tell you that he’d brought his own, and you’d make a mental note to buy coffee beans or whatever next time you go to the store). At the sound of your voice, Trevor’s head whipped up, and you put Blaine on speaker.

_“Uh, well, they don’t seem to have guns, but they do have really, really shitty fashion sense.”_ Something crackled a little bit on Blaine’s end, and you could imagine it was him pulling the curtains back again for a second look.

You looked at Trevor, whose eyes were wide until he caught your gaze and he softened into a reassuring smile.

“Hi Blaine, I’m Trevor. Tell me, do either of these men have aviator sunglasses on? And if yes, is he either comically short or have the biggest nose in the world?” Trevor said, setting his coffee down. You could practically hear the confusion that was undoubtedly plastered across Blaine’s face at the new voice. Blaine didn’t know about Trevor. Blaine didn’t know anything at all yet.

_“Yes? There’s a short guy and a taller one. Both have brown hair.”_ Blaine drew it out, like he wasn’t sure, and Trevor sighed and started typing away on his phone. You sighed, shoulders slumping in relief. You guessed that Trevor knew who these men were, and therefore they probably weren’t a danger to you (or Blaine, for that matter).

Trevor sighed again and showed you his phone.

**[To: Jeremy 9:15:16 AM]  
_Are you outside of [Y/N]’s place of work right now?_**

**[From: Jeremy 9:15:58 AM]  
_Yeah, why?_**

**[To: Jeremy 9:16:12 AM]  
_You’re a fucking idiot._**

“Alright, Blaine, they’re okay. They’re uh, friends? Sort of? I’ll explain when I get in. You can head across the street and let them in the shop in the meantime, so they don’t look like creepy loiterers any longer than they have already.” You said to Blaine, taking your phone off of speaker and bringing it up to your ear. You mouthed _shower, be right back_ at Trevor, who just gave you a thumbs up, and you flew back down the hall and to the bathroom.

_“Okay, but you have to explain their fucking outfits to me when you get here, [Y/N], they look so fucking weird.”_ Blaine said, and you agreed and bid him goodbye.

You took a quick shower, brushed your teeth and dried your hair. You opened the bathroom door, peered out, determined that Trevor wasn’t in sight and therefore wouldn’t see you in your towel ( _not that you’d mind_ , your brain supplied) and you darted into your room, texted your mother good morning, picked out clothes for the day and got dressed in record time.

When you walked out of your room again, you register the smell of something cooking, and when you turn the corner, you see that Trevor had found your waffle maker hiding in your cabinets.

“Hey.” You greeted, opening up the can of fish food and feeding Gus.

“Hey there, figured you’d be hungry, this is what I could find that I actually knew how to make. I could’ve done eggs but I didn’t know how you liked them.” Trevor said, smiling at you.

“Thanks, Trevor, but I have cereal, too. You didn’t have to make breakfast or whatever.” You said as you cooed at Gus, waving at the grumpy little fish.

“I uh, I may have eaten your cereal after you went to bed last night. I promise I’ll buy you more!” Trevor rubbed at the back of his neck sheepishly with one hand while holding out a plate with a waffle on it with the other, glancing over at you.

You laughed and took the plate, pulling the syrup out of a cabinet and setting both things down at the tiny “kitchen table” you had shoved in a corner.

“Not a problem, dude.” You said, sitting down and cutting into the waffle. Trevor sat down next to you (the only other accessible seat at the table), a fresh cup of coffee in his hands.

“Do you want some? I probably won’t eat it all.” You asked, gesturing to your plate. Trevor smiled and shook his head.

“No thanks, I made a test waffle while you were in the shower and ate it.” He explained before his phone buzzed, drawing his attention away from you.

You weren’t sure if it was influenced by the fact that Trevor made that waffle for you, but you were pretty sure that it was the best waffle you’ve ever had.

 

***

 

By the time you and Trevor made it to the store ( _“You_ walk _every day?”_ Trevor had asked, bewildered), it was nearing 10:30. The sign still said ‘closed’, but you could see Blaine cleaning the storefront window. He smiled and waved, pulling a funny face as the two of you approached, which you immediately returned. You were looking down into your purse, fishing for your keys to unlock the door when it swung open from the inside, bell tinkling. Trevor immediately started cackling behind you.

“I swear to god, Trevor, I am going to dropkick you into space if you don’t shut up _right now_.” A voice that was distinctly Michael’s growled, and you looked up to find him scowling over your head at Trevor.

And man, was he a sight to behold.

Michael was dressed to the nines in a royal blue tuxedo. But what really completed the ensemble was the glitter bomb that seems to have exploded over his head. There was blue glitter _covering_ his tux, in his hair, even his face seemed to have been painted with a glittery blush, his eyes lined with navy liner and a stellar, sparkly blue smoky eye completed the “look”. You hid your smile behind your hand and did your best not to laugh as you passed him and entered the store. Standing just inside the doorway, leaning awkwardly against a shelf, was the man who had hid behind Ryan in the elevator, except for he smelled a lot less like wet dog, had the same ensemble as Michael, with the addition of a pair of aviators perched on his head.

“Hey,” he said, pushing off the shelf and extending a hand, “I’m Jeremy. Don’t think we’ve officially met.”

You shook his hand, “[Y/N], I’d love to know who did your makeup, it’s fabulous.” You said, your mouth curving into a smile before you could stop it.

Jeremy, for his credit, just sighed, “Geoff’s idea. Something about ‘looking like Gus’, and then he cackled, waved his hands around, and muttered some shit under his breath.”

“We’re supposed to be fucking _inconspicuous!_ The asshole is just doing this for his own goddamn entertainment! He fucking made us look like the people version of a fucking _fish_!” Michael interjected, arms waving as he shut the door behind Trevor. You made your way through the shelves towards the back of the store, where the “check-out counter” (aka a set of low bookcases with a cash register on top and a comfy chair behind it) was located. You set your purse down next to the register as Blaine appeared from behind a shelf, wandering over and gesturing with the rag he was using to dust the window with towards all four of you.

“So, uh, do I get in on this or is it a super-secret?” Blaine asked, leaning sideways against the nearest shelf.

Both Trevor and Michael opened their mouths, but you were faster, “Blaine, it’s a long story, but the short version is I was attacked by some Unseelie jerk on Saturday night and Trevor here –” You gestured to Trevor next to you, “ – along with another guy, Ryan, helped me out, but my dad and Geoff – you know, Ramsey? – think that I’m not out of the woods yet, so I’m being babysat by Geoff’s whole crew for a while, until we figure out why what happened, happened at all. I’m assuming Michael and Jeremy introduced themselves?” You explained, and you could feel everyone staring at you.

“Oh-kay. I think I’ve heard of Ramsey before, through my dad. So are they, like, you know?” Blaine gestured sort of behind him, and then above your head.

“Oh, yeah. Totally. Ramsey’s got vampires, warlocks, demons. The whole nine yards. Works with my dad, too, so he would’ve had to at least have knowledge that we exist. Don’t have to worry about that, dude.” You assured the blond man, who seemed to sag in relief.

“Good. That’s good, otherwise it would’ve been probably not as good. Should I open up the shop for the day, then, boss?” Blaine asked, scratching at his bearded chin.

“Yeah, go for it.” You waved him off, and then directed your attention to the remaining three men. Jeremy’s eyes were wide and his mouth was hanging open a bit, mostly in shock, Michael looked like he was about to punch something, and Trevor –

Well, Trevor looked like he was in awe of you, and that couldn’t be right, so you just told yourself that he was shocked, too.

“Don’t worry, Blaine’s a centaur, he gets it.” You told them, trying to calm them down, but it only seemed to make it worse.

“He – he’s a _centaur_? How? What?” Jeremy asked, whipping around to crane his neck at the retreating form of Blaine, eyes as wide as saucers.

“Centaurs can shape-shift like you can, Jeremy.” Trevor reminded him, patting him on the back in a gesture that felt both sympathetic and sarcastic.

“Forget fucking that, why are you going around _telling people these things!_ You’re painting a fucking target on you back!” Michael nearly roared, face turning red, and when you blinked you could See that his aura was sucking the light from the Edison bulbs above you right out of existence.

“It’s okay,” You held your hands out in a placating gesture, “Blaine is trustworthy. His dad is one of my dad’s best friends. Blaine’s my only employee, and my only friend, besides Mica. I’m not an idiot, Michael. I promise that I’m not going around, blabbing and making your lives more difficult.”

You felt a cool hand grip onto your shoulder, and then Trevor piped up from beside you, “He may be able to help, even, Michael. We don’t know. But if [Y/N] and her father trust him, then we should too.”

Michael took a couple of deep breaths, and you could See his aura ebbing away and back to normal. You glanced over at Jeremy, to see if he was at all affected by Michael’s outburst, but he was still looking at Blaine, who had flipped the sign to open, unlocked the door, and was now on one of the rolling library ladders, dusting off the tops of books. A woody brown aura surrounded him, and the wet dog smell suddenly made a lot more sense.

Michael sighed, shaking his head and wandering off, mumbling something about letting Geoff know under his breath.

Trevor’s grip loosened on your shoulder to just a comforting weight, but he didn’t move away.

The two of you watched Jeremy stare at Blaine for a couple more moments, before Trevor cleared his throat purposely and Jeremy whipped around.

“Oh, shit, I was staring, wasn’t I? Sorry.” Jeremy said, face turning pink.

“It’s alright, Jer.” Trevor said, chuckling. Jeremy rubbed at the back of his neck and looked over at you.

“I, uh, I’m kinda new to all of this.” He said, gesturing vaguely into the air. You smiled, a thought suddenly coming to you.

“Well, I think I can help with that.” You told him, beckoning him to follow you. You were a bit disappointed when moving meant that Trevor’s hand slipped off your shoulder, but to your surprise, he turned with you and followed on your heels, Jeremy close behind.

You led them through the shelves of books, skirting around one of the multiple “lounge nooks” scattered throughout the building, this one a set of two vintage upholstered chairs with a dark-wood end table tucked between them, a lamp perched on top.

“This place sure is a lot bigger than it looks.” Jeremy commented as you passed another library-ladder.

You looked over your shoulder at him, a sly grin gracing your face, “My father once helped out a warlock who was being wrongly accused of murder. He was super thankful, asked if there was anything he could do. I had just bought this property to start the store. He enchanted it to be bigger, and he created the door to upstairs. Well, I mean, he _hid_ the door to upstairs.” You led them down the short hallway that housed the bathrooms, and at the end of the hall was a staircase.

“Here,” You pointed at the staircase, “If you aren’t Normal, it’s a staircase, right? If you are, it’s an emergency exit. And, best part, is that when they ‘open’ the door, they actually get dumped outside. It’s hysterical, really, I’ve seen it happen before.” You explained, leading the way up the stairs. You and Trevor paused on the top landing, but after a moment of confusion, you looked down to see that Jeremy was reaching his hand through the doorway, sticking his foot in and out of it to touch the bottom step with the toe of his shoes.

“You okay there?” You asked, and Jeremy nearly lost his balance.

“Yeah, sorry, just…” He trailed off and started climbing up the stairs.

“I get it, Blaine didn’t believe me at first, either.” You told him, gesturing to the room behind you, “Welcome to where the real magic is. Pun intended.”

To be fair, you had stuck to your hardcore vintage library aesthetic on the upper floors of the store, but the fact that the shelves were labeled things like “Vampires” and “Kitsune” were the first clear giveaway. The fact that traditional lighting was swapped out with actual, floating balls of light was another.

“Wow,” Jeremy uttered, staring up at a one of the floating spheres, “what are these?”

“Fae stuff, from home. If you touch it, it’ll follow you around.” You told him, and Jeremy immediately started trying to find one that was hanging low enough for him to reach.

While he did that and Trevor looked on with amusement, you started flitting around the room, looking around and pulling specific books off the shelves. You went up to the third floor for a moment, grasping books and adding them to the wobbling pile in your arms before bringing them back to Trevor and Jeremy. Trevor immediately moved to you and took some of the books out of your arms, but Jeremy seemed to have not even noticed that you’d been gone at all, still hopping up and down, trying to reach the lights. You and Trevor set down the piles of books – probably about a dozen or so in total – onto a table, and Trevor called to get Jeremy’s attention.

“I want a light…” Jeremy mumbled, head hanging a little bit as he walked over to the two of you. You smiled at Jeremy, holding up a finger before reaching up into the air, floating up to the nearest orb and grabbing it, pulling it down with you and holding it out to Jeremy. The orb was warm but not blistering, and the light it gave off seemed to consume your fingers when you held it.

“Here you go, Jeremy.” You said as he eagerly took it from your hands. After a moment of inspection, he let it go, and true to your word, it floated up to just above his head and stayed there, moving with him as he ducked and swayed.

“That’s so _cool_!” Jeremy exclaimed, looking between you and Trevor excitedly. You laughed and looked up at Trevor, who was beaming down at you. There was a moment where you couldn’t look away, Trevor’s toothy smile aimed at you, dark eyes gazing into yours, and then you remembered why you were there, why _Trevor_ was there, and snapped yourself out of it.

“Anyway, I figured you’d might be interested in these, Jeremy.” You started, gathering the man’s attention and picking up the top book on the pile, “These are the books about different species, by members of that species. They’re the most accurate accounts about history, dynamics, characteristics, and all kinds of stuff. I picked out the most ‘common’ species and races, as well as all of the ones that I know you work with. And I grabbed one on werewolves, too, because I’m reaching out on a limb and guessing that you may be having a less-than-typical experience.

“And this one,” You wiggled the book in your hands a little bit, “is about me. Well, fae. And, we do ‘rent’ books like libraries do, so it’s essentially free of charge as long as you return them. And the ones that you want to keep, you can keep.”

Jeremy beamed at you, taking the first book off the top of the stack – titled _A Warlock’s Guide to Understanding Warlocks_ – and immediately flipped it open, running his fingers over the pages.

“This – is super awesome, thank you, [Y/N]. I – can I just like, start reading now? Like, I know a bunch but not enough, it’s weird asking questions and this – this is exactly what I need, I think.” Jeremy gushed, picking up each book and reading the spine. There was one on vampires, werewolves, fae, warlocks, djinn, demons, sirens and other water creatures; you also added a book on nymphs and their variants, as well as books on angels, shifters, animal traits (kitsune, rougarou, centaurs, etc.), and one on ghosts and their variants to round it all out.

Jeremy was going to have a _lot_ of reading to do, but you had a feeling it’d be worth it for him. You heard a little _click_ and saw that Trevor was taking pictures of Jeremy with his phone.

“Geoff’ll love it. Plus, I get blackmail cause he looks like _that_.” Trevor whispered when you looked at him with confusion. You hid your huffing laughter behind your hand and watched Trevor take more photos.

“Treyco!” You heard a distinctly Michael voice yelling from downstairs, and soon enough, his glittered curls appearing over the edge of the stairs, “Treyco, Geoff wants you back at the penthouse.”

Your heart plummeted into your stomach, and you felt the corners of your mouth pull down. You were quick to school it back into a neutral expression, but Trevor must have noticed, because he patted you on the shoulder and gave you a little, lopsided smile.

“I’ll be back later, I’m sure. You’re in good hands here, [Y/N].” He said, brushing some of your hair off your shoulder and following Michael back downstairs, their heads instantly bowing together. You strained to listen to what they were saying as they descended the stairs, but they were talking too quietly for you to hear. Your mind then drifted off into different territory, trying to figure out what Geoff would need Trevor for – or what it was that Trevor (or any of them) actually _did_ under Geoff’s private investigation/vigilante justice shtick he had going.

“Should we go back downstairs? Can I take these downstairs?” Jeremy asked from behind you, jolting you out of your thoughts. You turned to find him trying to stack the thick books into his arms. Sweeping in, you grabbed a few off the top as they started to tilt towards the floor.

“Uh, yeah, as long as we stay pretty close together, I can just throw up an illusion to make it look like you’re reading something else. No big deal, dude.” You smiled at him, and he nodded, heading towards the stairs with his arms laden with books.

“I’ll be down in just a sec.” You called after him, as an afterthought, your earlier train of thought coming back to you enough to remember that you still weren’t sure what Lindsay’s aura was. You had seen multicolored auras, yeah – lots of different creatures and species had two-tone auras, changelings have three colors – but rainbow was something new. You knew exactly what you were looking for (comes with the territory of stacking the shelves yourself) and quickly put it on top of your stack before hurrying down the stairs. You saw that the orb that had been following Jeremy was bouncing against the doorframe, not quite sure how to account for the slope of the ceiling, so you bopped it out of the way with the back of your free hand, sending it back into the room.

“Hey, [Y/N], when you’re done with that, I have some people asking questions that I don’t know if I know the answer to?” Blaine shouted out to you as soon as he saw you walking back into the main area of the store. He was standing behind the counter, ringing up books while a couple of customers milled around, sort of standing in line. You were fortunate enough that your store did well, you’ve benefited greatly from the ‘support local businesses’ movement, and there wasn’t a designated bookstore on this side of town besides yours. There were discount stores and department stores that had book sections, sure, but _Books and More Books_ sold _only_ books. It didn’t hurt that you also were the only person you know in the area who had Mythical and ‘Supernatural’ books. Jeremy was sitting in a chair nearby, book resting on his lap. A quick glance around and you saw that the rest of the books you had given Jeremy were stacked neatly next to Blaine’s feet behind the register. You gently set the books in your arms on top, turned back to Jeremy and projected a quick illusion on his book so that it looked like he was wearing a very large volume of _Twilight_ , and then faced the people milling about. You could just barely see a sliver of Michael’s shimmering blue suit by the doorway when you craned your head around a shelf.

“So, who is it that needs help, Blaine?” You asked, and he gestured to a middle-aged woman who kept glancing at Jeremy in confusion.

You approached the woman, and thus began a busy late morning and early afternoon. Every once in a while, Jeremy would call you over and ask a question, usually about a word in a different language or a sentence he didn’t understand. A little bit after noon, Michael had left and Jack came by as a replacement, bearing gifts of take-out for lunch for all.

By the time you had a break between customers and customers asking what was up with Jeremy’s sparkling attire and stocking shelves and unpacking new inventory (it was Monday, so the truck with all the new books you’d ordered on it came right after lunchtime), it was nearing three o’clock.

You checked your phone and saw that you had a new message from an unknown number.

**[From: Unknown 1:23:54 PM]  
_Hey, it’s Trevor. I got your number from Michael and Gavin. I know you’re working and stuff but I thought I’d shoot you a text so you had my number._**

**[From: Unknown 1:24:02 PM]  
_You know, in case you needed something or something_**

You smiled at the set of texts, saved the number in your phone (while you were doing that you saw that Michael and Gavin must’ve added their numbers at some point the night before, under “Cool Guy Jones” and “The Nose” …actually, it was probably _just_ Michael), and sent him a response.

**[To: Trevor 2:54:43 PM]  
_Thanks, Trevor! Michael must’ve stolen my phone last night, I only just noticed that their numbers were in my phone :)_**

You immediately regretted that smiley face emoji, but Trevor seemed like the kind of guy who wouldn’t judge you on your use of emoticons…you hoped.

“Okay, let’s have a seat.” You mumbled to yourself, dropping your phone back into your purse and scooping up your book from earlier. You plopped down in the chair next to Jeremy’s, who seemed to have moved on from _A Warlock’s Guide to Understanding Warlocks_ and now had his nose buried in _I’ve got a Djinn in Me: All About Genies and Why We’re Not Just in Lamps Anymore (Or Were to Begin With)_.

“Hey, Jack?” Jeremy called, and the man in question made his way through the shelves to where the two of you were sat. You could see the top of Blaine’s head as he dusted off books, picking up from where he was this morning.

Jeremy looked around, sniffed the air, and then leaned in close to Jack, “Is this true? Can you really shapeshift into _anything_?” Jeremy stage-whispered, pointing to his book.

Jack chuckled, “Yeah, Jeremy, just about. I go all Robin Williams on ya, too.” Jeremy’s eyes went wide.

“Oh, man, can you show me later? That’s so _cool_!” The younger man gushed, and Jack smiled and nodded, giving Jeremy a thumbs up before wandering back to his “post” at the front of the store.

“This is super awesome, [Y/N]. I had no idea about most of this stuff. Like, Jack isn’t immortal but Geoff technically is? I would’ve thought it was the other way around. And I just finished the chapter about how Western mythology fucked up a bunch of shit about djinn and made it seem like Jack and Michael are like, the same but they’re suuuuper different. I wonder if the book about demons is going to talk about that, too. I’m sure there’s two different sides to the story, so to speak. I wonder if _Jack_ and _Michael_ have two different opinions! Should I ask them, or is that rude?” Jeremy rambled a little, almost tripping over his own tongue a couple of times.

“I don’t know much about Jack and Michael on a personality level, but I’d be careful if you ask Jack. Some djinn are really sensitive about that. Demons, from my understanding, don’t really care, and were mostly just ticked off at the time because djinn kept getting credit for their mischief.” You said, and Jeremy hummed in response. You saw him nod in your peripherals, but he still looked a little lost in thought, like he wanted to say something more.

“Got another question, Jeremy?” You asked softly, dividing your attention between him and the index of your book.

“Nah, it’s just…there’s so much to know. I want to know everything, but I feel like my brain doesn’t have enough space for all of it.” He confessed, and you bit back a laugh.

“Trust me, Jeremy. You don’t need to know everything. I’m sure that there’s stuff in some of these books that your friends don’t know about themselves. Or they’ve forgotten. Or both. And you certainly don’t need to be a walking encyclopedia of everything about every species. Geoff flat-out told me when I met him that most of y’all don’t know much about fae and whatever.” You reassured him, reaching out and patting his arm before you could help it.

Jeremy looked over at you, “But you know so much.”

“Please, I don’t know everything. And books are both my hobby and my job. Before I decided to leave my home and join the ‘real world’, so to speak, I was a documentarian and researcher for the Seelie Court. It was my job to find the most accurate and well-documented characteristics and facts and stuff so that the Seelie Court had reliable, decent information about all other races and species, including Normal Humans. We like knowing about others so that we can act appropriately – or inappropriately, if someone’s being a dick.”

Jeremy nodded, and you noticed that he must’ve rubbed his eyes while he was reading, because his blue smoky eye was smeared on one side.

“That makes sense.” He said, and then did a double-take, “Wait, how old _are_ you? Wait, that’s rude, I mean –”

You laughed and cut Jeremy off, “It’s fine, dude. I’m actually really young, especially for someone living outside of a fae community. I’m going to hit my first century in a couple months.” Jeremy’s eyes turned to saucers, and you couldn’t stop the laughter that bubbled out of you at the sight.

“Shit.” He whispered, staring at you, and you just patted his arm again and went back to your book. It was written by your mentor, Ashley, and it was all about the Sight and auras and all that wonderful shit. Since leaving home, it’d been your go-to guide on anything that happened that Ashley either hadn’t taught you about, or, more likely, she _had_ taught you about, but you had forgotten.

“Here’s a fun fact for you,” You started as you finally found the page you were looking for in the index and started flipping to it, “so you know that when people make ‘pentagrams’, it doesn’t usually work, right? That’s because when Westerners started equating djinn and demons, their summoning rituals and symbols got mixed together. The ‘pentagram’ that most Normal cults use, and shows like _Supernatural_ use, it’s a combo between djinn summoning symbols and demon summoning symbols, therefore complete bogus and would never work. Unless, of course, a demon and a djinn had a kid together, but even then, they’d have to get the right percentages; how much of a djinn summoning ritual vs. how much of a demon summoning ritual to use, et cetera.”

“That is fucking nuts. Wow.” Jeremy mumbled, and you chuckled at his amazement at the whole ordeal.

You understood him, to a certain extent. You were only taught the basics of each species in the faery version of ‘school’ – vampires suck blood and are weaker in the sun, werewolves turn at the full moon but with age and experience it becomes a choice rather than a demand, sirens were made famous for singing and living in the ocean but they don’t necessarily have to do either of those things – fundamental stuff like that. It had blown your mind when Ashley suggested that you go into research and you got to read all of the stuff they’d already determined was true and started reading and studying more to figure out what they were exaggerating or lying about. It was like when you learn that the Earth is round for the first time, or that the reason why the moon “illuminates” at night is because it’s reflecting light from the sun. There’s that first moment of _oh, huh, that’s cool_ , and then your brain gives you mental whiplash as it sinks in and you go _what the fuck?_

From what you’d gathered, however, Jeremy was starting from literal square one. You wouldn’t be surprised if he didn’t know some of the more “common knowledge” things in the “supernatural” world – not because Geoff and the others wouldn’t explain things to him, but more likely from forgetting that it’s something Jeremy _wouldn’t_ know. It was obvious to you that he was Turned, or if he _was_ a Born werewolf he either had a sheltered childhood or grew up without a pack. You were undoubtedly curious, but you didn’t want to make a man who you’d known for all of 48 hours uncomfortable with probing questions.

You shook yourself out of your train of thought and focused back on your book, beginning to read:

**_Chapter 14: Multicolored auras_ **

_The term “multicolored auras” applies to any auras that are more than two colors, and significantly smaller number of creatures fall under this category. There are tri-tone and quad-tone auras, the most notable species for each of these are changelings (pink, black, and white) and rakshasa (white, black, brown, and orange). It is important to note that species such as nymphs and sprites do **not** fall under the multicolored category, for even though the subspecies of these creatures have different colored auras, each subspecies has a single color (or two-tone) aura and therefore does not apply. Creatures such as shifters, which have aura’s resembling the stone tiger’s eye, do fall under the category of “multicolored” in this book, due to the multitude of shades present in the aura. This however, is a historical point of contention within the community of those who possess the Sight, some arguing that it is shades of the same color and therefore not multicolored. That is for each individual Seer to decide, but for the purposes of this book, they have been placed in this chapter._

_This chapter will list and explore all species and races that have multicolored auras, from tricolor up to seven-colored auras. There is only one known species that has seven colors in its aura, and that is the rare Valkyrie, whose aura could be compared to a rainbow._

Valkyrie.

Lindsay was a valkyrie? You had never met one before in your life, and now that you had, you couldn’t stop the concern that washed over you. Why would Geoff need a _chooser of the slain_ in his glorified P.I./bodyguard business? You took a deep breath, shutting the book as you inhaled, and tried to reason with yourself. Geoff probably didn’t go out choosing exactly who he wanted and what species and races he needed. Lindsay may have just applied for the job, or she was friends with one of them and brought in. Geoff may have hired her without knowing that she was a valkyrie at all.

Who were you kidding, there was no doubt that Geoff knew _exactly_ what he was doing when hiring Lindsay.

It was a smart decision, after all. You’re much more likely to not die in a fight when you have a valkyrie on your side, regardless of all of the constraints and stipulations the group of women had.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted at adscititious-cacoethes.tumblr.com

Not long after your discovery, business picked up again, with people coming in on their way home from work. It was also starting to dip into the evening, so more of the Non-Normal clientele were starting to come in. Two of your regulars wandered in around six, on their way home from where they worked together. They were both on the shorter side, and you knew the moment they walked in by the way that Jeremy tensed and his head lifted a little bit, the smell of their magical blood probably flooding his senses.

“[Y/N], sup?” The woman, Mariel, said to you as soon as she could see you through the shelves, while you watched her companion, Tyler, do the handshake-chestbump-brohug thing with Blaine. You smiled and waved.

“Hey, Mariel, how’s it going?” You asked her, and she sighed, shaking her head.

“Idiot back there bet me I couldn’t stomach troll food. Got a cookbook for that?” She asked voice lowered a little bit even though there weren’t any Normal humans in earshot, and you watched Jeremy relax a little bit out of the corner of your eye once he registered the genuine friendliness of your conversation.

“Uh, maybe? Third floor in the back has cookbooks. I don’t know if I have any troll ones, though. You may have to settle for stone giant, although most of those recipes involve eating rocks.”

“I’ll eat a rock, I don’t give a fuck.” Mariel said with a smile, turning and heading towards the hall that housed the stairs.

“C’mon, asshole!” She shouted to a still-chatting-with-Blaine-by-the-door Tyler, who immediately started jogging her way.

You noticed a girl in the trashy romance novel section stop and stare at Tyler’s ass, and you focused to See if Tyler was _attracting_ her. Sure enough, she was the dull, unassuming and barely-there gray of a human, so you turned to Tyler. His aura was a bright rosy color. _Hmph. Must just actually think the asshole’s attractive_. You thought to yourself, watching as Tyler’s red and Mariel’s bright, grass green got close enough to touch and become a yellowy color at the touching edges as they walked down the hall together.

“Who were they?” Jeremy whispered as soon as they were down the hall and out of sight. You crouched down next to his chair.

“Mariel and Tyler. Uh, forest nymph and incubus. No, they’re not dating, they’re friends and regular customers. Typically, when someone goes upstairs either Blaine or I go up with them, yanno, to prevent stealing and deviousness and stuff, but we don’t bother with regulars.” You explained quietly, very aware of the human woman nearby, who had resumed looking at the romance novels. Jeremy nodded and returned to his book.

A while later, after both human woman and Mariel and Tyler checked out (they wound up going with the stone giant cookbook, as well as one on raw meat dishes catering towards werewolves), Jack wandered back to the cash register.

“Hey, Jeremy? Ryan’s on his way, so get ready to go.” Jack said, and Jeremy nodded. You pulled a big canvas bag from a shelf behind the register and helped Jeremy load all of his books into it.

“[Y/N?]” Jeremy asked, and you hummed, carefully placing _Ghosts and Undead: A Guide for Dummies_ into the bag, trying to Tetris everything in.

“Can I read this one, too? I know it was the one you were reading earlier.” He asked, and you looked up, seeing _The Sight: The Ultimate Guide for the Seer_ in his hands. You furrowed your brow, realizing that you had put it with Jeremy’s books instead of back on the shelf where it belonged once you had realized that Lindsay was a valkyrie.

On one hand, you could See, and it was a thing that not many people could do, so it would be nice to talk to someone else about it. On the other hand, half of the things Ashley wrote about in that book you _couldn’t_ do, like Predicting, Scrying, and Dream-Walking, so when Jeremy inevitably came to you, asking questions and wanting to talk about those things, you would have to admit that you _couldn’t_ do them, and that might be awkward.

The look of sincere curiosity on Jeremy’s face is what swayed you, and you slowly nodded, reaching out for the book and tucking it into the bag.

“You might want to talk to Geoff a little bit about it, unlike the other ones I gave you, it assumes that you know some stuff right off the back. It’s more of a science book for scientists instead of a science book for students.” You warned him, and he nodded, picking up the heavy bag like it was nothing and swinging it onto his shoulder.

A few minutes later, at exactly eight PM, the bell on the door chimed and you could see the tall figure of Ryan walk in. He talked to Jack and Jeremy for a few minutes, before the other men left, and you skirted the counter and strode to meet him.

“Hi, Ryan.” You said, giving a little wave.

“Hello. Who’s that?” He asked, pointing to the corner where you saw a gently snoring Blaine star-fished in a chair.

“Oh, that’s Blaine. He’s my employee, who’s currently sleeping on the job, I guess.” You said, laughing and moving to wake Blaine up.

“Blaine, wake up, you have to meet Ryan.” You urged, shaking his shoulder. The blond woke up with a groggy groan, but stood up and offered his hand to Ryan nonetheless.

“’m Blaine.” He mumbled and blinked a few times as Ryan laughed and shook his hand.

“Ryan.”

“You’re the other one of the guys who helped my girl here out, right?” Blaine pulled you into his side with his arm around your shoulders, ruffling your hair with his other hand. You quickly swatted it away and smoothed down your hair.

“Uh, yes, that’d be me.” Ryan replied, still snickering at Blaine.

“Good.” Blaine yawned as he responded, leaning heavily enough on you that you had to use your wings to keep the two of you upright.

“Blaine, get off, you asshole.” You shoved at Blaine’s side, and he reluctantly complied, laughing.

“Why don’t you go home, dude? We’re going to be open late tomorrow and you came in early because of the Glitter Bomb Duo. I’ll close up and stuff.” You offered, and Blaine grinned at you.

“Well, if you insist…” He trailed off, looking innocent but he was already scooting past Ryan and heading toward the door.

“Fuck you, Blaine.”

“Love you too!” He called as the door slammed shut behind him.

Which left you with Ryan, who was staring at you with a strange expression on his face.

“Alright, well, let me go through and close up and stuff and then we can head home and whatever?” You offered, but Ryan continued to look at you like you hadn’t spoken at all.

You stood there a minute longer, before sighing inwardly and walking around Ryan to close the blinds on the windows and switch the sign to “closed” in the door. You were halfway to the stairs to make sure that the upper floors were void of customers when Ryan finally spoke.

“I’ve been trying to figure it out, but I give up. How do you and him – Blaine – do it?” Ryan asked, and you turned to see him walking through the rows of shelves toward you. You rose an eyebrow, fixing him with your best _what the fuck are you talking about_ face.

“Do what, Ryan?” You asked, once again starting to walk towards the back hallway after he got within a few feet of you.

“Well, he’s a centaur, right? That’s what Michael told me this morning.”

“Uh-huh. So?” You said, urging him on while popping your head in the women’s restroom to make sure no one was there. You knocked on the door to the men’s room and did the same.

“So, you’re fae. Body types are completely different. Makes it severely improbable. Unless! Unless he can still pop a boner while shifted to look like a human. Is that how you two do it?” Ryan’s voice had an edge of excitement and curiosity in it.

You spluttered, nearly tripping over your own feet, and then you started coughing. You could feel your face turning beet red.

“Oh my god. Oh my god. I can’t – shit, Ryan! Did you – did you _really_ think we’re together? Blaine’s my best friend, sure, but he’s like an annoying brother more than anything. I don’t know how his centaur junk works and now you’ve put the mental image in my head! I’m scarred, scarred for life!” You half-shouted, slamming your hands onto your face and rubbing your eyes.

Ryan, for his part, managed to look sheepish.

“Well, from what Michael told me this morning, and your behavior, I thought…” He trailed off, and you ascended the first could stairs before turning around so that you were eye-to-eye.

“Blaine is my best friend. I explained that to Michael this morning, but I guess he didn’t believe me. He’s gross and not my type. I’m not in a relationship right now, at all, Ryan.” You weren’t quite sure why you added that last part (you absolutely knew why and his name started with T and ended with ‘revor’), but Ryan seemed to get your point, nodding and rubbing the back of his head.

“Alright, point taken, sorry. But in my defense, it’s Michael’s fault.” Ryan retorted, part-apologetic and part-accusatory, his hands up in a gesture of innocence.

“Okay, whatever, it’s fine. Just – please don’t tell Blaine, he’ll never let me live it down.” You sighed as Ryan nodded, and the two of you swept through both the second and the third floors, making sure no one was there before returning back to the ground floor. You grabbed your things, did a final sweep of the main floor, and then locked up. You started down the sidewalk towards your apartment, but Ryan grabbed your arm to stop you.

“Nuh-uh. None of this ‘walking’ shit. It’s getting late, we’re driving.” Ryan said, gesturing to the nice-looking but still nondescript black SUV before jingling some car keys in his hand. You sighed, a little disappointed that you didn’t get your full amount of “exercise” for the day (and, more importantly, didn’t get to stop at your favorite ice cream parlor, located exactly halfway between your store and your home), but followed Ryan into the car regardless. As you buckled in, you heard your phone chirp from your purse.

**[From: Trevor 3:15:15 PM]  
_If any of the boys give you trouble, let me know._**

**[From: Trevor 8:46:01 PM]  
_Hey, Ryan says you guys are heading back to your apartment now. Geoff wants to know if you can give him some semblance of a schedule for when Books & More Books is open. I told him what you said, that you didn’t really have one, and his response was “well make one!”_**

You smiled to yourself, not noticing that Ryan had glanced at you, smiling a secret smile of his own.

**[To: Trevor 8:47:10 PM]  
_Mondays, Wednesdays, and Thursdays we open earlier and close around 7 or 8-ish. Tuesdays, Fridays, Saturdays we open around 12 or 1 and stay later, usually until midnight. Sundays is a wild card._**

**[To: Trevor 8:47:57 PM]  
_Also, apparently Michael told Ryan that Blaine and I were dating? Even though I made a point to call Blaine my best friend so that no one assumed we were dating? Cause that’s like, gross, Blaine’s like a brother? So that was awkward. If you could yell at Michael for spreading lies and slander, that’d be great :)_**

You tried your best to phrase it like you were joking and not really all that mad, but judging by Trevor’s immediate response of _“I’m gonna fucking kill him”_ , you had missed your mark. You spent a couple minutes going back and forth, trying to reassure the man (read: dark-haired, tall, handsome, adorable, nice man) that it was okay, and you didn’t really mind all that much, and that it wasn’t the first time that you and Blaine had been mistaken for a couple (although it was the first time someone had asked how the two of you would have sex – that thought sent an unpleasant shudder down your spine just recalling the conversation), but Trevor wouldn’t budge on the matter.

Sure enough, when you and Ryan were safely back in your apartment and Ryan had checked to make sure no one was there and you were making spaghetti, your phone started playing “Highway to Hell”. Confused, you looked, only to find you had gotten a text from Michael:

**[From: Cool Guy Jones 9:12:32 PM]  
_Sorry for telling Ryan that you and Blaine were dating, even though I didn’t actually say the words “[Y/N] and Blaine are dating”. Ryan read into it the wrong way, I guess. See you tomorrow!_**

You sighed and changed Michael’s contact name (but kept the ringtone, because it was actually pretty funny) before sending a response.

**[To: Michael 9:15:42 PM]  
_It’s fine, just provided a really awkward conversation. Sorry if Trevor jumped down your throat about it, I’m not actually super upset as long as Blaine doesn’t find out._**

As an afterthought, you took a picture of Gus, grumpy as ever, sleeping in the bright pink castle you had bought for him back when you thought he was a girl (then you did some research on the type of fish he was and came to discover that only boys are that color), and sent it to Michael without context.

Michael sent you back about seven middle finger emojis, accompanied by a _“Fuck you.”_

Unfortunately, after dinner you realized you had forgotten to ask Blaine for your air mattress, but Ryan didn’t seem to mind, just asked for a blanket and told you that he was _“Used to sitting upright”_ with a creepy eyebrow wiggle.

Ryan’s fingers brushed against yours, and you couldn’t help but notice that while Trevor was cool to the touch, Ryan was positively frosty, which was slightly disconcerting and although you knew quite a bit about vampires, you weren’t sure which one was “correct.”

 

***

 

The next day was more of the same. You got up, showered, texted your mother good morning (her and your father were taking a day trip to Milan, which made you jealous, but she promised to bring back souvenirs), dragged Ryan to the grocery store with you (you remembered the coffee, secretly hoping that Trevor would be coming over again soon and resolutely ignoring the little voice in the back of your head that kept telling you that he was _babysitting_ you and it was his _job_ ), and drove down to the store with him a little after lunchtime. Shortly after the two of you arrived, Michael and Lindsay came to relieve Ryan of his duties, Michael wearing normal clothes, but if you looked close enough you could see that not all of his makeup had come off fully, and when the light hit his hair right, you could still see specs of glitter. Blaine showed up around one-thirty, arms laden with the box that contained your air mattress, as well as the pump to fill it with. Michael went out with Blaine to go put it in his car, stating that he was going to be taking you home tonight, and as you watch the two of them chat as they walked out the door, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh.

Michael driving you home implied no Trevor. You turned to go back to the register to scan in more inventory that you decided not to do yesterday and nearly ran face-first into Lindsay.

“How’s it going?” She asked, bright smile on her face, and you could See her rainbow aura glowing brightly around her.

“Uh, alright. Do you know if y’all have found out anything?” You asked, running a hand through your hair. For all of the time you’ve spent with Ramsey’s crew (which you had found out this morning from eavesdropping on Ryan while he was on the phone that they called themselves “AH”, whatever that means), you hadn’t heard a single thing about what was going on.

“We’re going through all of your father’s recent cases, seeing if anything or anyone seems particularly suspicious and malicious. We also pulled records of every case your dad’s done that has involved fae, Seelie _or_ Unseelie. From what you and Ryan and Trevor told us, the Unseelie who attacked you doesn’t seem to be the leader…”

“But an Unseelie’s right hand man is always and Unseelie, yeah.” You finished for her when she trailed off.

“We’ve got our whole support crew, plus anyone else we can spare, looking into things and following leads and shit. So far, we’ve got a couple of maybe’s, but nothing just yet. The good news is, our pile of no’s just keeps getting bigger and bigger!” She said brightly, which made you smile.

Around five o’clock, Lindsay was traded out for Jeremy, who said that it was supposed to be Gavin but Gavin had forgotten that he and his girlfriend were supposed to be going on a date tonight. Jeremy had a backpack on, so you assumed that meant that he was going to be staying over with you in your apartment tonight, but when he opened it up, it was filled with some of the books you had given him the day before.

“Michael,” He asked, when there was a lull in customers, the only two in the store being upstairs with Blaine, “Michael, the things you can do is terrifying to me. I had no idea you could literally just turn me to ash if you wanted to.” You managed to stifle your laughter, but Michael did not, nearly doubling over. Jeremy turned pink, immediately hiding his face behind the copy of _Your Inner Demons, Explained: A Beginner’s Guide to Hell and its Occupants_ that he had been reading from.

“Jeremy, I’m not a strong enough demon for that.” Michael said, finally, after he had calmed his laughter.

“Yeah, but if you damned some more souls you _could_!” Jeremy insisted, staring up at Michael earnestly, which just caused Michael to dissolve into giggles again.

Around six-thirty, Blaine went down the street to the diner at the corner of your block (owned by a sweet elderly couple of nereids) and brought back dinner for all. Your phone chirped while the four of you were crowded around a coffee table near the front of the store, and you pulled it out of your pocket to take a look.

**[From: Trevor 6:54:21 PM] _  
Hey, hope your day’s going well! Sorry I can’t come visit, Geoff and I are working on some stuff._**

**[To: Trevor 6:54:58 PM]  
_Yeah, it’s been great! Nothing particularly interesting to report. Hope “stuff” with Geoff goes well!_**

You tried to school your face to “mildly interested”, but you could tell you hadn’t quite succeeded, if the suggestive wiggling eyebrows that Blaine gave you when you looked up from your phone after locking it and shoving it back into your pocket.

A little while later, you were sitting next to Jeremy by the register, you flipping through _The Care and Keeping of Yacumama: A (Mostly) Complete History of Sea Monsters_ while he had moved on to _Wolves! Were?: A New Wolf’s Guide to His Inner Beast_. Jeremy was telling you about how he just learned that once he’s more experienced with his wolf-side, he’ll be able to Change at will, no matter the time of the month, when the bell above the door chimed and a loud, _“What’s up, you fucks?”_ was shouted into the room.

“Hey, Mica!” You called, registering but not paying attention to the way Jeremy stiffened. He’d been doing it, probably subconsciously, every time someone new had walked in that didn’t smell at least vaguely familiar, and you were _fairly certain_ Jeremy would’ve never experienced someone like Mica before.

A woman that was browsing cookbooks gave Mica a glare as she waltzed past, but Mica paid her no mind, instead just pulling you up from your chair and sweeping you into a hug.

“Girl, I missed you!” She exclaimed, and you laughed into her shoulder as you returned the hug.

“Missed you too, how was Egypt?” You asked as you pulled away.

She laughed, and her sparkling golden aura glittered as she moved, “Oh, it was wonderful. Father sends his love, of course.”

“And of course, you told him I send mine?” It was more of a statement than a question, and when Mica nodded, you could almost see the outline of a lioness’s head in her aura around her face.

“Of course.” She agreed, before finally turning to look at Jeremy, who had abandoned his book in favor of staring up at the two of you.

“Oh, Mica, this is Jeremy. It’s a long story, Blaine or I will fill you in later, but I’m being babysat until further notice.” You explained as Jeremy rose and stuck out his hand.

“Nice to meet you, Mica.”

Mica gracefully took Jeremy’s hand within her own, “Pleasure’s mine.”

“Blaine’s upstairs if you want to go say hi. We’re staying open late tonight ‘cause it’s Tuesday, so if you want to just go up there and man a floor for a while, be my guest.” You informed Mica, and she nodded before heading off towards the stairs.

“Mica’s a friend of yours, right?” Jeremy asked once you sat back down.

“Yeah,” You nodded, “she’s one of my two friends. She was visiting family in Egypt for the past couple months, so I’m happy that she’s back. Blaine just doesn’t cut it when you want to talk about girly stuff.”

“So, uh…” Jeremy trailed off, looking around a bit before dipping his head towards you and dropping his voice to a whisper, “she’s not human, right?”

You let out a breathy laugh, “Nope. Want to hazard a guess?”

“I don’t know…it’s hard to tell, especially since she’s been in Egypt for a while. She smells, old and like, sandy? I feel like that’s offensive to say, for some reason.”

“No, you’re right. How familiar are you with Egyptian mythology?” You asked, and Jeremy lifted his head to meet your eye.

“You’re fucking with me.” He said, deadpan, but there was wonder shining in his eyes.

“Nope. You, my man, just met Sekhmet, lion-headed warrior goddess, also a goddess of healing. She prefers Mica, though, and if you act like she’s royalty or whatever she’ll fucking destroy you.” You said, smiling at the way Jeremy’s eyes lit up and then darkened with fear.

“Holy shit. Is everything real?” He inquired.

“Nah, no such thing as unicorns. That’s bullshit.”

 

***

 

Once the sun went down and the number of non-human beings skyrocketed, things got a little bit busy, but they settled down near midnight, and you, Mica, and Blaine did a sweep of the building, making sure that everything was clean and no one was still there before you locked up for the night. Blaine and Mica broke off from your group, deciding to head down to a nearby bar for some drinks, and Jeremy also departed, tell you that he’d see you tomorrow, backpack still laden with books. 

That left you and Michael, sitting silently in the car as the radio played softly in the background.

“So, how’re you doing?” Michael asked finally, about halfway to your destination.

“Alright.” You said, toying with your phone in your hands. You had been checking it periodically all day, and had not gotten a single text from Trevor since dinner. You tried to hide the disappointment that was threatening to pull up from somewhere deep in your gut.

Michael hummed, tone disbelieving, but didn’t say anything. You were thankful for that.

When you got back to your apartment, and the normal drill of whoever you were with checking to make sure your apartment was “clear” before you walked in occurred, you were dragging your feet. All you wanted to do was fall face-first onto your bed, but you helped Michael push your furniture around and blow up the air mattress first. You were halfway to your room when you remembered that you hadn’t fed Gus yet.

“Hello, Gus.” You said quietly, so that you didn’t disturb Michael playing games on your couch. You dropped flakes into the tank for your grumpy little fish, and nearly yelled out in shock when a _second_ blue fish darted up to the food!

“Holy fuck, Michael, come here!” You said, and the taller man was at your side nearly instantaneously, looking around wildly.

“What, what?” He demanded.

“I have two fish!” You pointed at the tank, where, sure enough, grumpy little Gus was eating while a new fish swam around him in circles.

“Why does that matter?” Michael spit, but he was watching the fish just as intently as you were.

“Michael, I don’t _have_ two fish, I only have one Gus.”

Michael’s eyes went wide. He looked to you, and then back to the fish, and then to you, and then he dunked his hand in the tank and pulled out both fish, dropping them on the floor. One of them, Gus, just flopped and spluttered, but the other one immediately started glowing and you and Michael watched as the second fish transformed into a sopping wet _Gavin_.

Michael immediately started howling with laughter, while you bent down and scooped up Gus, apologizing to the poor fish and setting him back inside his tank. Gus seemed to give you a side-eye, so you put in a few more food flakes as atonement (even though he was supposed to be on a diet).

“What the _fuck_ , Gavin?” Michael yell-laughed, dragging Gavin up from the floor. You ran into your hall closet and grabbed some spare towels, bringing them back and giving them to Gavin, who thanked you and immediately started drying his hair and face with one, the other wrapped around his shoulders.

“I bloody get called back to the penthouse in the middle of my date with Turney, and so I came back, and it turned out that it was something Matt could’ve bloody well fixed, so I called Geoff an arsehole and he started giggling. Told me not to be such a ‘grumpy gills’, an’ the next thing I know, I’m in a bloody fish tank!”

Michael, who had calmed down enough to listen to Gavin, started laughing so hard you couldn’t really hear it any more, face beet red and head thrown back.

“It’s not funny!” Gavin shouted at him, but he was smiling, too, so you were pretty sure he didn’t mean it.

“It’s fucking hilarious, Gav. Come on, let me call Jack or someone to get you home.” Michael said, and you retreated to your room.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains blood and talking about blood and drinking blood (vampires, y'all). 
> 
> Originally posted at adscititious-cacoethes.tumblr.com

The next few days went by in a blur, nothing particularly out of the ordinary happening. Jeremy continued to ask questions and make comments regarding his new-found knowledge to just about everyone (“Ryan, can you really _fly_?” “I can’t, personally, but I know a guy who can.” “Is it Trevor?” “No.”), and although he texted you quite a bit, you only saw Trevor once, for a few hours on Thursday afternoon.

“Hey, I’m sorry, I have to go do some stuff for Geoff the next couple days, follow some leads from a few of your dad’s cases, but don’t worry, Lindsay and the guys will take care of you.” He had said, putting his hand on your shoulder and smiling that warm, toothy smile at you.

You had resisted the urge to hug him.

You regretted that.

So now a week had gone by since you first met Geoff & Co. (you refused to call them AH, even in your head, until you figured out what that meant…which would involve _asking_ , but you didn’t feel like that was something you could ask), and it was Sunday, and you were staring up at your bedroom ceiling, trying and failing not to think about Trevor, while Lindsay and Michael sat on your couch in the living room. It was Lindsay’s turn tonight, technically, but since she and Michael are together – something you discovered by accident, but made sense in retrospect – Michael had asked if you minded hosting one more for the night, and you didn’t think you could’ve refused him, even if you wanted to.

There was a soft knock on your open door, and you lifted your head to see Lindsay in the doorway, a soft smile on her face.

“Hey there.” She said, and you grunted in response, waving her in lazily with one hand. You had dropped your illusion, so she could see your wings shimmering around you – everyone except for Jeremy had seen your wings, now, because you’d taken to the _fuck it_ attitude and dropping your illusion as soon as you were safely in your apartment every night. Jeremy had asked not to see them until he got to the book about fae, stating that he wanted to understand before experiencing, which was something that you could appreciate.

“Sup, Lindsay?” You asked, your voice softer than you would’ve liked.

“Nothing. Can I come in?” She asked, and you sat up, nodding.

“Of course you can.” You had grown to really like Lindsay, the valkyrie seeming to understand the weirdness of your situation better than the boys, who seemed to be treating this like just another job, and you like just another friend (which is was, and you hoped that you were, respectively).

Lindsay shut the door behind her softly and sat down next to you on the bed.

“Just got a call from Geoff, Trevor will be back tomorrow, so hopefully this big rotation thing can stop and you’ll get some semblance of normalcy back. He didn’t find anything, which is good, ‘cause that means we’ve narrowed it down to five potential people that could be targeting you and your family. Well, your family _through_ you.” She said, patting your thigh and smiling.

“That’s good,” You said, and you couldn’t tell if you were talking about the Trevor thing or the what Trevor _found_ thing (spoilers: you could tell, and it was the former). You and Lindsay sat there for a moment in silence, and then something registered in your brain, “wait, why will the quote-unquote ‘big rotation thing’ stop?”

Lindsay chuckled, “Well, I mean at least one other person will come to _Books and More Books_ every day, just because of all the customers and the multiple floors, and whatever, but you won’t have to wonder who’s going to be staying with you every night.”

“Yeah, but why would it be Trevor?” You caught the edge of Lindsay’s sly smile before she schooled her face into something more neutral.

“You two seem to get along well, is all.” She said, but you could tell she was holding something back. You debated with yourself whether or not to call her out on it (aka ask her timidly because you didn’t want to upset her) for a few silent moments, ultimately sighing inwardly and deciding against it.

“Alright. Thanks, Lindsay.” You finally muttered, knocking your shoulder against hers gently.

The two of you sat together for a couple more minutes, Lindsay humming to herself and you debating whether or not to tell Lindsay about your crush.

Because it was that – a crush. You admit it. You thought Trevor was handsome, and you knew he could handle himself, and he was funny and super nice and considerate. He kept sending you funny gifs and videos of dogs, especially when he knew that you were up late at the store. He kept popping up in your dreams. You’d taken to only reading books about and/or by vampires for the past week or so, because even though you knew a lot about vampires, Trevor made you want to have it all fresh on your mind.

Maybe it was a little more than a crush.

Lindsay shifted on the bed, and feeling her move jolted you out of your thoughts.

“I think he’s cute.” You blurted out, the words out of your mouth before you had even registered you were saying them, and once you did, your hand smacked over your mouth. Lindsay just stood up and smiled at you.

“I know.” She said, winking at you and then leaving the room, closing the door behind her to leave you alone with your thoughts for a little bit longer before you finally drifted off to sleep.

 

***

 

The next morning, you texted Trevor ‘good morning’ in the morning, right after you texted your mom, and he had responded immediately, saying that he was almost back in town. By the time Jeremy and Gavin had arrived at the store – around eleven – you had begun to get anxious. You had just met Trevor a little over a week ago, now, and then he was gone for a little over three days, and you had just told Lindsay you thought he was cute which was _pretty much_ a confession of love – what if you had imagined it all? What if you were just perceiving the situation (that Trevor was nice and cute and liked your company) the way you were because that’s what _you_ wanted?

You were so wrapped up in your own harrowing freight-train of thought that Gavin had to tug on your shirtsleeve because you were hovering a couple inches off the ground.

“Trevor just got back, he texted me,” Jeremy told you at lunch – today Blaine’s mom had come by and brought enough wings for about twenty people, “he told me to tell you. He has to debrief with Geoff and Lindsay, said he’ll be over soon as he can.” This new information just made you more anxious.

Jeremy must’ve noticed (hell, probably even _Blaine_ noticed and you have to literally hit him on the head to get him to be even the slightest bit observant), because even though you knew he was only about halfway through the important parts of _More than Just a Pretty Voice: All About Sirens_ , but after lunch he had pulled out _The Ultimate Guide to Fae: Seelie Edition_ and began to read from it, instead, probing you with questions every ten minutes or so.

“You’re allergic to _iron_?” Jeremy nearly shouted in disbelief, shoving his book under your nose. The two of you were on the second floor, Blaine manning the register for a while, because there were quite a few non-human customers that had been asking for assistance and while Blaine stocked the shelves and cleaned the place as much as you did, he didn’t know what books were best for specific needs and types of information.

“Ah, I see you’ve reached the ‘weaknesses’ subsection of the Characteristics chapter,” You said lightly, nodding as you spoke, “yes, Jeremy, I’m allergic to iron. There’s none in my blood, that’s why my blood is blue, because there’s no iron to interact with the oxygen.”

“How do you _live_? There’s iron everywhere! Silver is easier to get around, and it’s not like I can’t touch it, it doesn’t burn me, but _iron_?” Jeremy was on the edge of his seat, literally, talking a mile a minute.

“It’s not that hard to get around, Jeremy. And it’s okay if I touch it, it just makes me itchy, like poison ivy or a bug bite.” You explained patiently.

“Damn. Still, though. Does that mean you can’t eat food with iron in it?” He asked.

You shook your head, “When you’re around while I’m eating, does it look like I have dietary restrictions? My body just doesn’t absorb it, it goes right through me, so to speak. I’m sure I’d develop a stomach ache if I only ate iron-rich foods all the time, but for the most part, it just does the same thing as everything else your body can’t process: come out the other end.”

Jeremy made a face at that, and you couldn’t help but laugh at the sudden turn for the worst his interest had taken. He settled back down for a little bit after that, falling silent for a little bit while you helped a customer decide between phoenix books about puberty and adolescence for their son. Once you were done, however, Jeremy was piping up again.

“What kind of wings do you have? Sorry if that’s a rude question, haven’t gotten to the etiquette part yet.”

“Leafy, the long thin kind, not the fat oak- or maple-looking kind.” You responded, knowing exactly what chart he was currently looking at.

“Like this?” He asked, pointing, and sure enough, a drawing of a set of wings that looked a lot like yours was right under his finger. Both the forewing and the hindwing were rather thin in width, the hindwing having a squiggly sort of “leafy” edge to it. The forewings had straighter lines but still rounded at the top and the outer margin had a little bit of a wave to it, like the hindwing. And, true to the wings you knew were on your back but currently invisible, the ones in the book were semi-opaque, glossy, and opalescent in color.

“Yup, just like that. Not exact – wings are like fingerprints – but basically the same.” You agreed before grabbing a duster and cleaning off some shelves to keep yourself busy. Trevor hung in the back of your mind the whole time.

By the time dinner rolled around, you were less anxious about your brain “inflating” Trevor, so to speak, and more anxious (or was it disappointed?) about whether he was going to be there at all. Dinner was leftover wings from lunch, which Blaine had to walk across the street to his apartment to heat up. You didn’t even bother lifting your head from the book you were only half-reading when you heard the door open and the bell chime. Jeremy, however, basically _jumped_ out of his chair, and that combined with Blaine’s call of _“Guess who I found?”_ forced your curiosity to get the better of you.

Lifting your head, you were just in time to see Trevor appear from between the aisles of books. He looked a little worse for wear, with dark shadows under his eyes and a bit of a hunch to his shoulders, and you wondered just how much sleep he’d gotten (you knew vampires didn’t need that much sleep, but they still needed, yanno, _sleep_ ).

Beyond the part of you that was suddenly much more concerned about exactly what _stuff_ Trevor had been doing for Geoff more than you had been previously, was the part that was getting all flustered and butterfly-filled from seeing Trevor again.

“Hey, guys!” Trevor said, smiling wide, but the corners were tight. You refrained from using your Sight to see if he needed to feed, because that felt intrusive and you weren’t sure if you could hold back a comment about it.

“Hey, [Y/N]. How are you?” Trevor asked, fingertips resting on the countertop.

“I’m okay, how are you?” You countered, setting your elbows on the counter and resting your head on your hands. You were vaguely aware that Jeremy, Gavin, and Blaine were still there, but they seemed to be talking to each other so you felt a little less bad about ignoring them in favor of talking to Trevor.

“I’m tired, if I’m honest, but I’m okay.” He assured you, tilting his head a little. You spent a couple minutes staring at each other before Gavin dropped a plate full of wings between the two of you.

“Eat up, now, c’mon.” He said, gently shoving both of you one the arm.

You giggled and grabbed a wing, glancing at Trevor, who did the same.

 

***

 

“[Y/N], I’ll close up tonight, go home.” Blaine said a couple hours later.

“Yeah, get going, you kids. We’ve got this.” Jeremy added before you could protest, pointing his finger back and forth at you and Trevor.

You both put up a protest, but Trevor’s was half-hearted and tired and you, honestly, knew that Blaine was more than capable of closing up – he’d done it dozens upon dozens of times, before, so you didn’t really have a solid argument.

“Just tell me when you’re done and home safe, alright?” You asked Blaine, glancing over at Gavin and Jeremy, too, for good measure. Blaine gave a salute, contorting his face into a ridiculous expression.

“Yes ma’am!” He said, and you giggled, grabbing your things and following Trevor out the door.

One relatively quiet drive later, and you and Trevor were standing in your kitchen, Trevor on his phone while you fed Gus. You looked up and, unable to resist any longer, you blinked a little bit and focused. Sure enough, Trevor’s aura had darkened considerably, the edges being almost black.

That was not good.

You couldn’t help but be a bit angry at Geoff – if Trevor had been in a meeting with Geoff before coming down to _Books and More Books_ , Geoff surely would’ve noticed, and _should have_ felt obligated to make Trevor feed before sending him over.

“Okay,” You said, sighing as you leaned against the counter and capped the fish food container, “what do you prefer?”

“Hmm?” Trevor asked, instantly looking up from his phone and setting it on the table when you spoke.

“What do you prefer? I have the Sight, Trevor. I don’t want to pry into your life, but what I See is concerning.” You watched as Trevor’s smile dropped as you spoke, and your stomach turned to lead. _Did you step too far?_

“I don’t – it’s hard when it’s cold.” Trevor admitted, finally, bowing his head and then glancing up at you through his lashes, and you instantly felt a little better.

_Okay, didn’t step too far._

“There’s a bar a couple blocks away. Mica – she’s my friend – is friends with the owner. They can do fresh _and_ warm.” You purposely left out the word – _blood_ – because Trevor left it out, and you felt like something was new here, like the two of you were treading on thin ice, and you ignored that the obvious response to that metaphor was for you to use your wings and float away.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea if we go to a Blood Bar. Because I’m not leaving you alone, and it’s not a good idea for _you_ to go to a Blood Bar.” Trevor gazed at you, something a little thick in his voice, and you shook your head.

“That’s not a problem. Let me just call Mica, yeah? They deliver. Or, at least, they will if she asks them to.” You insisted, resisting the urge to slide your hands across the table to cover his own, or place a hand on his arm, or _anything_ , because although Trevor was still Trevor, he was _hungry_ , and while you knew that without any iron, the blood in your veins did little to nothing for vampires, and while deep down, you knew Trevor wouldn’t hurt you, the way Trevor was standing – shoulders hunch forward, back bent, head low, elbows locked – made you think that _Trevor_ wasn’t sure if Trevor wouldn’t hurt you.

A phone call and about twenty minutes later, and Mica herself was buzzed in and standing on your doorstep. Trevor darted for the door before you could even get up off the couch, and while he didn’t hide you like Michael and Ryan would, he was very clearly, very purposely in the way of anyone who may be on the other side of the door.

“Hey there! You must be the famous Trevor. I’m Mica, here’s your stuff, hot off the press.” She handed an insulated lunch bag to Trevor, who took it from her with a nod.

“Nice to meet you too.” He said, offering a smile. Mica craned her neck around his lanky frame and threw up finger guns in your direction.

“Hey [Y/N], Kovic says hi!” She said to you, and you scoffed a little, but not in a necessarily bad way.

“Thanks for helping, Mica. This was the easiest solution, so I appreciate you pausing whatever you were doing for us.” You couldn’t _not_ notice the way that Trevor stiffened a little at the word “us,” but tried to ignore it.

“Anything for you, girl, you know.” She said, saying her goodbyes and striding back down the hall with a wave. As soon as the door was closed and locked, Trevor took three long strides into the kitchen.

“Do you –” You cut yourself off, then started again, and you could hear how timid you sounded, “Do you want me to leave?”

Trevor whipped up to look at you, eyes wide, “Oh, [Y/N], if it makes you uncomfortable, you don’t have to stay, you can go to bed, I don’t mind.”

“Well I don’t mind, it’s not uncomfortable, I just wasn’t sure if it – I don’t know, I know some people are weird about it. I didn’t know if you were…particular, or whatever.” You reassured, following him into the kitchen and placing a hand on the counter, again resisting the urge to reach out and physically touch him to try and provide comfort, for as much as you wanted to, you were too worried about him, about making sure he was okay, to try anything _new_ or _different._

“Okay. Why don’t I put some of this in a mug and then we can watch some TV or something?” Trevor offered, smiling uncertainly at you, which you immediately responded with a beaming grin of your own.

The whole thing made you feel weird, and as you walked over to the couch and settled down, logging into Netflix, you couldn’t help but realize that you weren’t afraid of Trevor, however much your instincts were sort-of, kind-of telling you that you should. Trevor was settling beside you a few moments later, and while the smell of blood wasn’t your favorite, you made painfully sure not to let it show, and when you could see the tips of little white fangs poking out over Trevor’s bottom lip as he took a sip, you didn’t stare, instead just shifting your gaze over to the television, where you were debating what kind of show you wanted to watch. You ultimately decided on a home-buying show, confident that the ability to make fun of and/or yell at the people on the show would dissolve the weirdness in the room. And it did, episodes passed, Trevor got up to wash out his mug and came back with two steaming cups of tea (you took yours gratefully), and sooner than you would’ve liked, you could feel your eyes drooping. It didn’t help that now that Trevor had fed, he was a nice just-below-room-temperature, and every time your shoulders brushed or your knees knocked together felt really, really nice on your skin, especially after hanging out near Jeremy all day, who radiated heat like a campfire.

“Getting sleepy?” Trevor asked quietly, a hint of teasing in his voice, and you scrunched your eyes shut for a second and rubbed them to try to gain focus back.

“Nah.” You lied, but it was punctured by a yawn, making both you and Trevor laugh.

“C’mon, we should go to bed, it’s late.” Trevor insisted, pushing gently at your shoulder, and you squashed down the little flutter in your heart at the way Trevor said _we_ instead of _you_.

You begrudgingly rose to your feet, “Fine, fine. I changed the sheets on the air mattress this morning, but if you need extra blankets, they’re in the closet in the hall, and you can take pillows from the couch and the chairs if you need more of those.” You told him as you half-walked, half-floated to your room, Trevor’s cool hands on your shoulders pushing you along.

“Got it, thanks, [Y/N]. Goodnight.” He said, smiling at you and shutting your bedroom door behind him. You quickly changed and flopped down on your bed, asleep the moment your head hit your pillow.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a panic attack and fear and violence and death threats but don't worry there are also haps in this chapter too.
> 
> Originally posted at adscititious-cacoethes.tumblr.com

_Everything was misty, the edges of your vision clouded with something that looked like clouds but as you reached out to touch it, nothing was there. You looked around – you were in Ashley’s house. The walls were the same cheery peach color you remember, and down the hall, you could see the edge of Ashley’s bubblegum-pink aura peeking out from behind the doorframe. You went to walk forward, but your legs wouldn’t listen to you, so instead you let your wings start to flutter, letting you hover a couple inches above the ground. You pushed forward, turned the corner, and opened your mouth the greet Ashley –_

_The words were stuck in your throat. Ashley was slumped against the wall, face mottled and bruised. Her wings looked like someone had grabbed them and squeezed with their fists, creating crumples and folds. A large, blue spot was forming on her shirt over her stomach._

_You crouched down beside Ashley, reaching out to touch her, find a pulse, see if she was breathing, do_ something _, but it was like your hand wasn’t even there, phasing right through her bloody cheek like she didn’t exist, wasn’t bleeding and broken in front of you._

_A large, scarred hand reached out and grabbed her by the neck, and you jumped, crying out in fear. Another person was here – his clawed fingernails and winding scars made something in your mind, something trying to be calm and rational, tell you he was Unseelie. He was different from your attacked, his aura more black than pink, you had to squint to even see the pink streaks running through it – it was the darkest Unseelie aura you had ever seen, and as you flew backwards towards the nearest wall in fear, he lifted Ashley up by her neck._

_He was thin and tall, but he lifted Ashley like she weighed nothing, and you saw her eyelids flutter open and breathed the smallest sigh of relief – Ashley wasn’t dead, at least. The Unseelie brought her up, nose-to-nose with his unsightly, scarred face, one eye cloudy white and black tongue flicking over black teeth. One of his forewings was cut in half, diagonally, but it was still enough for him to float above the ground unevenly._

_“Tell. Me. What. You. See!” He roared, spit flying into Ashley’s face, and you could see that his other hand was collecting sparkling black energy at his side, “She was supposed to die the first time. Tell me if she_ dies _!” He’s bellowing now, and you knew, without it being explicitly said, that he was talking about you._

_Ashley gave a half-smile, “Fuck you.”_

_“Then die! You all die! I’ll kill every last one of you!” He thundered, and you shut your eyes, afraid of what would happen next._

_“No! No! No!” You screamed, falling to your knees, chest heaving as the Unseelie fae started shouting directions, but you couldn’t hear the words, couldn’t see –_

Strong hands were wrapped around you, cool hands, long fingers curling around your waist, pulling you down until you were sitting on something equally cool, and someone was saying something, but they were in a bucket, or you were in a bucket, and your chest was heaving and your face was hot, someone was crying but who was crying were you crying? All you could see was Ashley’s face, _oh, god, Ashley, she’s hurt, Ashley_ –

 Something shifted around you, and one of the cool hands glided up your back and rested on your shoulder, and little circles were being drawn where your neck and shoulder met and somewhere in the back of your mind, you vaguely registered that someone was telling you to breathe.

Breathe. You could do that. _But Ashley –_

No. Breathe.

You couldn’t tell if it was inside or outside of your head that said that, but you did your best to inhale. It was shuddering and ragged, and you were suddenly acutely aware of the sobs racking your body, _you_ were the one that was crying. You lifted your hands to your face to try to wipe away the tears so you could see and figure out what was happening because you felt like you were surrounded by nothingness beyond the strong arm still wrapped around your waist and the hand that had move from your shoulder to lightly holding the back of your neck and Ashley’s poor, crumpled body was still seared in your mind as long as your eyes were closed. The arms around you didn’t think that was a good idea, though, instead gently pulling you against something soft, and then the arm around your waist moved, and something was gently wiping underneath your eyes.

You took another shuddering breath, trying to match your breathing to the way the thing you were leaning up against – _it’s a body_ , said some detached, lucid part of your mind – and blinked a bunch, trying to get enough tears to go away to sort of see.

Your left eye was kind of squished against what you could now recognize as someone’s shirt, and light was spilling in from _somewhere_ off to your right a little bit, but you could tell you were in your room, in your apartment, which meant that whoever was holding you down right now (and it was _down_ , you could feel your wings quivering with the fear that was still trying to clutch at your heart, and you knew that if whoever it was let go you’d probably be on the ceiling) what whoever was spending the night with you but _who was that, who was there –_

Trevor.

Trevor was here. Trevor was cute, and nice, and good, and _safe_. The sounds of someone talking – still bucket-y and hard to decipher – were Trevor sounds, that was Trevor talking to you, the cool hand against your cheek was _Trevor’s hand_ , and Trevor was talking to you.

You took another deep breath, this one slightly less ragged and difficult than before (although your chest felt like it was burning), and focused on the sound of Trevor’s voice, desperately trying to process what he was saying.

“Shh, it’s okay. I’ve got you, you’re okay. I promise, you’re okay, you just gotta come back to me, yeah? You’re safe, you’re okay.” They were soft and still sounded sort of distant but you took solace in the fact that you could understand him again, and turned your face into his chest. The hand on your cheek immediately moved to the back of your head, threading through your hair, and his other arm was across your back, elbow by the base of your ribs and fingertips brushing your shoulder, just wide enough of an angle that his arm wasn’t squashing or otherwise rubbing against the base of your wings. You closed your eyes and focused all of your energy on making your breathing match Trevor’s.

“That’s it, there you go.” He said once you had successfully steadied your breathing, and by association, your wings, so Trevor was no longer having to hold you down. You weren’t sure how long it took, but it felt like forever (so it was probably only a couple of minutes). You lifted your head and looked up at him. He was smiling softly at you, but there was worry in his dark eyes, and you couldn’t help but think that _you_ put that worry there.

“Hi there.” Trevor whispered.

“Hi.” You muttered in response, having to push past the dry scratchiness in your throat.

“Want to talk about it?” Trevor inquired, and he moved his hand on the back of your neck so that he could wipe away a stray tear.

You wanted to say no, not to worry, just a dream, but the _realness_ of it all, the auras, everything – you’d never had a dream like it, and you knew you couldn’t stop the aching feeling in your chest unless you called Ashley and made sure she was okay.

So instead, you nodded, “Had a dream. A fae I don’t recognize – Unseelie – was attacking my former mentor, Ashley. She was all beat up and bloody, and he was shouting about killing her and ‘everyone.’ I – I just – it was so _real_.” You felt hot tears well up in your eyes again, and Trevor immediately pulled you closer, into him, and rested his chin on top of your head.

“Shh, hey, it’s alright, I’m sure she’s okay. Want to call her to check?” He asked, and you made a small noise of affirmation.

“Okay, I gotta let go to get your phone, but I’m still right here, okay?” He waited until you nodded before pulling his arms away and leaning over towards your nightstand, and you realized that he had, at some point, pulled the two of you back on your bed so that his back was resting against your headboard, with you perpendicular to him, across his lap. As soon as he had your phone in his hand he was back, arms circling around your waist as you took your phone in shaking hands and dialed Ashley’s number, not even bothering to look through your contacts, that took too long and you needed to make sure Ashley was okay, _now._

You put it on speaker.

The phone rang once, twice, three times…

_“Hello?”_ Her voice was groggy, but it was definitely Ashley who picked up on the fourth ring. You nearly sobbed in relief, looking up at Trevor, whose face matched how you felt.

“Ashley, hi.” You breathed, and you should hear the shifting of fabric down the line.

_“[Y/N], it’s three in the morning, why are you calling this late? Or early, rather?”_ Ashley asked, sounding a little less drowsy this time.

“I had a dream. And it wasn’t like any dream I’ve ever had before, Ashley.” You confessed.

_“Tell me about it.”_

“I was in your house, and it was like I only had half my vision, it was all misty. And you were there, but – but you –” You broke off, and Trevor rubbed little circles into the small of your back.

You took a deep breath and tried again, “You were in a bad way. And I reached out but it…it was like I wasn’t there, and there was an Unseelie man, there. He asked you something – I can’t, can’t remember what – and you said ‘fuck you’ and he got mad, said he – he was going to k-kill –” You stopped, the memory suddenly too fresh in your mind again, afraid to keep going.

_“Tell me, [Y/N], did you see our auras?”_ She asked, gently, but you could hear the tightness in her voice, the tightness you very well knew meant that she thought something Not Great was happening.

“Yeah.”

_“Honey, that wasn’t just a dream. That was a potential future.”_ Ashley’s voice cracked a little bit, and you couldn’t tell if it was from the connection or if her voice was actually hitching. You grabbed at Trevor’s shirt in your free hand, stomach dropping, and Trevor’s hand gently squeezed your sides. You were too afraid of what he was thinking to look up at him.

_“That was a Prediction.”_

 

***

 

Trevor told you to stay on the phone with Ashley while he called Geoff, but Ashley heard him, so you had to take her off of speaker and explain what had happened since a week from Saturday while Trevor filled Geoff in. Ashley started packing a bag as you told her the whole story. After Trevor got off the phone with Geoff, he asked if he could speak to Ashley, and you handed over the phone, half-listening to the one-sided conversation – Geoff wanted her to come to the penthouse, Geoff wanted _everyone_ to come to the penthouse, blah blah blah.

Now that you knew Ashley was okay for the time being, at least, you felt exhaustion overcome you, and you were slowly but surely falling asleep against Trevor.

“Trevor?” You whispered, tugging a little bit on the sleeve of his t-shirt.

You heard him mutter something into the phone before a soft “Yes?” was directed at you.

“Please don’t leave.” You requested, eyelids heavy, and in your more-than-half-asleep state, you didn’t really register how he stiffened for a moment and then relaxed, didn’t see the fond smile he gave you, and just barely heard his response of _“Of course”_ before you were out like a light.

 

***

 

When you woke up again, daylight was streaming through the windows and you could smell coffee. Cool, heavy arms were wrapped around your waist, and you could feel Trevor’s cheek pressed against the top of your head. Vampires didn’t really have to breathe, but you’d read once sometimes their human instincts kick in, and that must’ve been the case for Trevor, because you could feel his chest rising and falling just the tiniest bit against your arm. If you listened carefully you could hear quiet voices somewhere else in your apartment, and you tried to think back to see if you could recall when other people besides you and Trevor came into your apartment, but the last thing you remember was Trevor asking you if he could take your phone and talk to Ashley.

You wiggled – just the _tiniest_ bit, aiming to wake Trevor up and not scare him, and sure enough, his arms tightened around you for a fraction of a second before relaxing, the weight of his head leaving yours.

“Morning.” He grumbled, a little bit of sleep sticking to his voice, and you covered your mouth with your hand to hide your smile.

“Morning, Trevor.” You slid off his lap and turned so that your back was against the headboard, too, and Trevor let you, arms falling. One landed in his lap but the other landed on your thigh, right above your knee, and you tried (read: failed) to tell yourself that it was just where his hands fell and didn’t mean anything at all.

“Why are you still in my room?” You asked, curious, turning your head to look at him.

He didn’t turn to meet your gaze, but you saw him smile, regardless, “You asked.”

You let the comfortable silence envelope the two of you for a couple of minutes, the only sounds being the voices in the hall and the ticking of the clock on your dresser.

“Thank you.” You finally murmured, breaking the silence. Trevor squeezed your leg.

“’s what I’m here for. I’m just glad you’re okay now. You had me scared for a bit there.” He told you, but there was no disappointment or malice in his tone.

“I’m sorry.” You said anyway, because the urge to apologize was a greater force than whatever the more rational side of your brain could produce at that moment.

“You have no reason to apologize, I’m just happy that I was here, so that you weren’t alone.” He confessed, finally turning to look at you, and that soft, unrecognizable _thing_ in was back in his eyes.

“Michael and Lindsay are in the living room, Gavin’s with Blaine and Jeremy’s with Mica. Your parents are fine, they’re with a witch friend of Geoff’s in the south of France, your father thought it’d probably be best if they suspended their combo vacation/business trip stuff until this was all smoothed over. Ashley is with Ryan and Jack, they went and met her outside your village and she’s staying at the penthouse until tonight, then her and Jack are flying out – Geoff and Robin and Ashley all agreed that it would be best if she was with your parents, since it seems like they’re definitely safe, otherwise they’d probably been, definitely would’ve been attacked by now. Then Jack’s going to poof home. Geoff also wants to quarantine you in the penthouse, but I told him to wait to talk to you about that.” Trevor debriefed you, and you nodded and made sounds of acknowledgement at all the right times.

“Okay.” You said, just as someone knocked on your door, and you realized that at some point after you had fallen asleep, someone must’ve closed it.

You slipped off the side of the bed, belatedly checking your hands to make sure your illusion hadn’t dropped (realizing with fear that when you had woken Trevor up last night he had most certainly saw your Marks because there was _no way_ you would’ve had illusions up in the panicked state you were in, but knowing that it probably would’ve just reset itself once you had fallen asleep again), and going to the door.

“Hello!” It was Lindsay, bright and cheery as ever, and you hadn’t heard Trevor slip out of the bed but you felt his cool hand on your shoulder, and you could’ve sworn that your skin felt a little tingly underneath where he touched. _Huh_.

“Hey, Lindsay,” You greeted her, doing your best to smile despite the sinking feeling in your gut that Trevor had seen the fae-iest fae part of you without you even realizing it, “what’s up?”

“Gavin called, him, Blaine, Jeremy, and Mica are at _Books and More Books_. Blaine said not to worry about coming in, they’ll handle it for the day. He wasn’t sure if you were still sleeping so he didn’t want to call you and wake you up.” She said with a smile, and you nodded. You were grateful that Blaine was willing to man the store, especially since you were expecting a new shipment of books today, and you were even more thankful for Mica, who probably volunteered to help even though she didn’t even work there – you made a mental note to buy each of them some sort of thank-you gift and send Blaine a text later.

“Alright. Trevor said I have to talk to Geoff?” You asked.

“Yes, but first, we must feed you! Get ready and stuff and the four of us will go out to eat.” Lindsay said, grabbing Trevor’s arm and pulling him into the hallway while shooing you back into your room, not leaving any room for discussion.

You shut the door and trudged to your closet, picking out an outfit for the day and then slipping into the bathroom. You brushed your teeth while waiting for the water to warm up in the shower, and once you stepped into the stall, you decided to let yourself take a long shower, taking your time with every step.

“Everyone’s okay, Ashley’s okay, creepy guy isn’t going to hurt her, just a Prediction, doesn’t mean it’s set in stone.” You muttered to yourself as you washed your hair.

Once you were done, towel wrapped around you, you wiped the steam off of the mirror and took a moment to really _look_ at yourself. Besides the redness around your eyes, it didn’t look like you had had a terrifying, anxiety-attack-inducing nightmarish Prediction at all, which made your spirits lift a little bit. The less your outward appearance reflected how you felt inside (anxious, frightened, confused – and that didn’t include all of your Feelings about Trevor, because yes, your little crush did now deserve a capital F, even in your head), the better. On a whim, you let your illusions fall. Surely, the fact that you just had your first Prediction, ever, would have done something to your Marks.

And indeed, there were changes. Plural. The small vine creeping up the side of your neck had produced a little leaf, in the exact spot where Shark Tooth Guy’s ring had bit into your skin. The offshoot that pointed down towards your belly button had grown longer, and a little cluster of leaves now bloomed over the right side of your chest. The main vine, the one that wrapped up your left arm and snaked across your collarbones, had grown, and now reached over the edge of your right shoulder, poised to curl down your right arm someday.

But the kicker was on your right shoulder – the _very same shoulder_ that a certain vampire had habit of resting his hand on – was a large, fat grape leaf, by far the biggest one out of all of your Marks. There was no doubt in your mind what, or rather _who_ , that leaf was “for”.

You had it bad for Trevor, and now you had the physical evidence to prove it.

Shit.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted at adscititious-cacoethes.tumblr.com

You dressed as quickly as you can, texted your mom and Blaine, and then focused pulling up both illusions and a neutral expression as you left your room and walked into the kitchen. Trevor, Michael, and Lindsay were all standing around the island counter, chatting, but fell silent when you entered the room.

“Is something wrong?” You asked, instantly regretting it, but all three of them shot you matching reassuring smiles.

“No, just waiting on you. You ready to go get some lunch?” Lindsay said, picking up her purse from the counter.

“I just gotta feed Gus, first.” You told her, reaching past Michael for the fish food, but Trevor shook his head, stopping you in your tracks.

“Already done, while you were in the shower. And uh, I also did the dishes because I wanted to wash my face and brush my teeth and I felt bad doing that with dishes in the sink.” He said, rubbing at the back of his neck.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Trevor, you didn’t have to…” You trailed off, blushing, and you watched Michael and Lindsay share a look out of the corner of your eye before Lindsay wrapped her fingers around your wrist.

“Now that that’s settled.” She said, pulling you to the door and stopping mid-sentence in a way that sounded like she had no intention of finishing it.

 One uneventful lunch and a quiet drive later, and you were once again standing in the elevator, on your way up to Geoff’s penthouse. Michael and Lindsay and Trevor were all chatting about something (Trevor standing _very_ close to your side), but you were too busy thinking to pay attention.

The elevator doors eventually slid open, and you heard a squeal, raising your head just in time to see Ashley barrel into you, wrapping you up in a hug. Relief flooded your body as you brought your arms up and squeezed her tight. Your mentor was here, in your arms, unscathed, and you felt tension you didn’t know you had melt from your shoulders.

“I’m so glad you’re okay.” You whispered next to her ear, and she nodded, pulling away to hold you at arm’s length. Her eyes were shining with unshed tears.

“Look at you, you’re all grown up now.” She murmured, pulling you into another hug for a moment before dragging you out of the elevator. She turned to face you again, and then looked up, over your shoulder.

“And you must be Trevor.” Ashley said it the same way that moms do when they think they know something you don’t, and you couldn’t stop the heat that spread from your neck into your cheeks.

As your mentor, she _was_ essentially a second mom, after all.

“Nice to meet you.” Trevor stuck out a hand as he said, it, but Ashley batted it away in favor of pulling him into a hug, too, and he looked at you wide-eyed over her head, but brought his arms up to pat her on the back, anyway. You just laughed with Michael and Lindsay at Trevor’s obvious confusion.

“Thank you for taking care of my [Y/N],” She said, pulling away from Trevor and looking to Michael and Lindsay standing behind you, “all of you. She’s always been my favorite apprentice.”

You didn’t know you could do it, but you felt your cheeks growing impossibly redder. You shot Ashley a glare, which she just laughed at, “What? It’s true.”

“Does this mean you know a lot of like, baby stories and stupid shit that [Y/N]’s done?” Michael asked, and to your absolute horror, Ashley chuckled and nodded.

“Oh, do I ever.”

“Sweet.” Michael said, wicked glint in his eye, and Trevor patted your upper back sympathetically.

“It’s okay, he does this to all of us,” Trevor informed you quietly, leaning down so that his face was near yours while he spoke, “come on, Geoff’s probably waiting impatiently, he knows you’re here.”

You nodded and followed Trevor down the hall, giving a parting wave to the others and silently praying that Ashley didn’t tell _too many_ embarrassing stories.

 

***

 

“So, I’ve heard through the grapevine that you’ve had your first Prediction.” Geoff said from behind his desk, fingers steepled together. You were sitting in the same chair that you sat in when you were last in Geoff’s office, only this time you were sans Lindsay, Trevor instead sitting in the chair she had occupied. Ryan was up against the wall behind Geoff, leaning precariously against it despite the amount of stuff that hung on the walls.

“Uh, yeah.” You shifted in your seat and glanced over at Trevor, who was smiling encouragingly at you.

“Trevor filled me in last night, but I had a couple questions of my own. Can you describe the man who attacked Ashley?” Geoff asked, face stony, all business.

“Uh, he was Unseelie. Tall, thin, but he picked her up with one hand. One of his wings has a giant chunk missing, but the line was smooth, almost like it was repaired surgically.” You told Geoff, and then nearly jumped out of your skin when Ryan pushed himself off the wall (making frames knickknacks rattle) and nearly ran out of the room.

“Good, we know who it is that’s after you, then. He was on our short list,” Geoff opened up a file in front of him and shuffled through a couple of papers until he evidently found the one he was looking for, “does the name Novus ring any bells?”

“No? I don’t think so? I’m sorry. If he has to do with my father, I’ve never heard of him. I try to avoid discussing it with him. I know he does a lot of good work, taking on cases so that non-humans can still get fair trials without outing them, regardless of whether they’re guilty or not, but it wasn’t something that he brought home with him very often.” You explained, wringing your hands in your lap. Geoff sighed a little.

“No, I get it, kid, don’t worry. This was a case in the Seelie Court, actually. He was the defendant; your father was prosecuting him. Sentenced to 80 years, must’ve just gotten out. Says here that he was screaming “I’ll give you something worse than death” at dear ol’ Robin as he was dragged out of the courtroom.” Geoff looked up at you, and you tried to swallow down the lump in your throat.

_Something worse than death._

What else was worse than your own death? You only kid getting murdered. And judging by your Prediction, this Novus jerk was ready and willing to destroy anything in his ‘quest for revenge.’ _At least things make a little more sense, now, even though they’re still off the wall_ , you thought to yourself, sliding down in your seat a little. You caught movement in the corner of your eye and turned a little to see a very concerned-looking Trevor staring at you.

“Alright, at least we know who it is, now. Anything else we need to talk about?” You asked, and as Geoff rubbed at his face, you saw his tattoos ripple and move. The woman on the back of his hand winked at you and gave a cheeky grin.

“Yeah, you need to stay here until we resolve this, [Y/N]. Penthouse is safe, I know who goes in and out at all times, it’s the best place for you. We’ll put up a ‘sorry, closed due to family emergency’ sign on your store. I’ll even go get your fish myself.” You expected another fish joke or burst of laughter, but it never came, Geoff’s sleepy blue eyes just trained on you.

“I – I can’t just, like, _not_ work, Geoff. I appreciate everything you’re doing – even though it’s because my father’s telling you to and whatever – but I have bills to pay, and shipments due in, and customers that need to pick up preorders. I understand, but I don’t know how long this is going to take. I can’t leave my job for weeks and weeks.” You tried to put into words how you felt, but judging by the growing frown on Geoff’s face, he was either not getting it or Not Having It. He slammed his hands on his desk, standing up from his chair so fast it clattered back into the wall, making you jump and cower back a little bit into your seat. The whole room went dark, and you could See his aura crackling and swirling with life.

“It’s not a matter of what you want! It’s a matter of your protection! Do you think we’re getting paid for this? This is a favor to your father, friend to friend. I’m putting my _whole team_ into this out of the kindness of my heart! I don’t care if you have shit to do, I’m not putting you in a position where you’re at risk!” Geoff half-shouted, voice pitching and cracking all over the place.

Before you could open your mouth to say anything – before you could even _think_ of anything to say at all, Trevor was out of his chair, hands up and out in a placating gesture, and now you could only see right half of Geoff’s face and upper body.

“Woah, now, Nelly, let’s just calm down, now, everyone,” Trevor urged before turning to you, “[Y/N], I get it. You have a business to run, and you do it almost entirely by yourself, which means you have a reputation on the line, too. But the store is sort of a risky place, being the only location besides your apartment that you frequent on a regular basis, _and_ the first time you were attacked, originally, you were walking home from there.

“Geoff,” Trevor turned his back to you to face his boss, “We understand that you’re doing this because [Y/N]’s father is a good friend. I understand that you’re doing what you think is best. But if the tables were turned right now, would you be comfortable with completely upending your entire life indefinitely, or would you crave something that would give you some little, _tiny_ sliver of normalcy, even if it meant taking a risk? Can’t we compromise, instead? [Y/N] cuts down store hours, maybe to three days a week, and Blaine gets any shipments that come in on days that the store isn’t open? That way, she gets something in her life that isn’t completely foreign-upside-down bullshit and you get to make sure she’s protected and safe?”

You watched, wide-eyed, as Trevor’s words made Geoff’s jaw loosen and his shoulders drop. By the time Trevor had finished, the (presumably) older man had fallen back into his chair, hands rubbing at his face. You had no idea that Trevor could negotiate and defuse a situation like that. On the surface, you were in awe of his concise eloquence and quick-thinking, but deeper down…well, you couldn’t stop the little voice back there that found it attractive. Trevor had a way with words that appealed to your book-loving self, and the fact that he was essentially standing up to you, to his _boss._ It was flattering, and it made you want to blush and giggle like a schoolgirl.

“Fine. Three days a week. But if this goes on for more than another week, we’re not sticking to the same three days. I need you to tell me all preorders expected and all shipment dates for the next couple weeks, so we can make sure your customers and suppliers and shit don’t get pissed at you. But I’m not getting your fish from your apartment, you have to go get it your goddamn self.” Geoff said, tone dismissive, and you let out a breath you didn’t know you’d been holding. Trevor stepped back and sat down again while Geoff handed you a piece of paper. You wrote down the ones you could remember, and then scribbled Blaine’s number at the bottom.

“I don’t know if I remembered all of them, but Blaine should still be at the store, so he can look it up in the planner book that we keep, you can text or call him about it.” You said, giving the paper back. Geoff only let out a _hmph_ in response, but you could see the corners of his mouth twitch upwards, so you were hoping that meant the man wasn’t _actually_ mad at you.

Geoff then instructed the two of you to _“get the dicks out of here”_ with a wave of his hand, and you shot a quick series of texts to Blaine, updating him on the whole thing while you followed Trevor out the door.

“Want to go get some stuff from your apartment now?” Trevor asked, and you nodded absently.

“Hey,” You stopped walking, grabbing Trevor’s forearm. He instantly turned to face you. “thanks for like, helping and negotiating and stuff. That was really, super nice of you, and after last night…” You trailed off, hoping that Trevor would understand the unspoken end to your sentence: _I owe you._

He just chuckled a little under his breath and shook his head, “It was nothing, [Y/N]. I could tell what you were trying to say, and I knew that Geoff wasn’t going to get it right away unless someone spelled it out for him. It’s not my first rodeo with Geoff ‘I’m an overprotective fucker’ Ramsey. And as for last night, I already told you, I’m just glad that you’re okay, and I was there to help.” He fitted you with a dazzling smile, and before you could talk yourself out of it, you surged forward and wrapped your arms around his waist, pressing your face into his chest in the biggest hug you could muster. Trevor’s arms immediately responded, wrapping around you and pulling you tighter to him.

You weren’t sure how long the two of you stood there, hugging each other in the hallway, but the sound of someone clearing their throat had you jumping away from each other. It was Jack, and he had a sly smile on his face as he looked between you and Trevor.

“I’m about to take Ashley to the airport. I figured you’d want to say goodbye, [Y/N].” Jack told you, beckoning you to follow him.

After a tearful good-bye with Ashley, you found yourself dabbing at your eyes and sitting in the passenger seat of a nice, dark-colored sportscar while Trevor drove back to your apartment. The two of you gathered up two suitcases worth of necessities (well, one suitcase of clothes and other necessities and one suitcase of stuffed animals) and Gus in his tank and brought it all back to the penthouse, where Trevor helped you set up Gus and your things in the same room you had stayed in the night you were attacked.

“I’d love to stay and hang out, but Jeremy just requested some assistance with recon.” Trevor said after the two of you finally got Gus’ tank set up and settled (he was a spoiled rotten grumpy little fish), waving his phone a little for emphasis.

You sighed inwardly, disappointed that your time with Trevor was called to an end for the moment, but pulled a (hopefully understanding) smile onto your face, regardless.

“Okay. Thanks for helping me out with this asshole.” You said, gesturing to Gus. You bit down the _and everything else_ that you wanted to tack on. You’d already had that conversation – you didn’t want to sound like a broken record, or worse, have Trevor get annoyed at your repetitiveness.

“Not a problem. I’ll swing by if it isn’t too late when I get back, but if not, you know where I’m gonna be. My door’s always unlocked as long as I’m in there.” Trevor smiled at you, and you nodded, giving him a wave when he looked back at you before he shut the door behind him.

You immediately flopped back onto the bed with a sigh, that turned into a yelp when you nearly bonked your head against the headboard.

“Forgot that there wasn’t going to be as much soft stuff to stop my fall.” You muttered to yourself, rolling onto your stomach and texting Blaine for a while – making sure everything was fine at the store that day, making sure _he_ was fine, asking if him and Mica were going to spend the night together to be _super_ safe (they were – Blaine was staying at Mica’s house, because she had much better security).

Eventually, you moved on to unpacking all of your things – there was nothing you hated more than living out of a suitcase (okay, there were a lot of things you hated more, this whole situation one of them, but suitcase was still fairly high on the list) – and after that, you took a nap.

Your ‘nap’ turned into a ‘sleep,’ and it was well after midnight when you woke up again. You splashed some water on your face and pulled up your hair before slipping out into the hallway as quietly as you could and knocking on the nearest (aka Trevor’s) door.

After a minute with no answer, you reached forward and tried the knob.

Locked.

_Okay, plan B_ (who were you kidding, you didn’t have a plan B). You sighed and started wandering down the hall, turning corners at random in an attempt to find something – or even some _one_ – recognizable. You weren’t sure if it was by chance or by Geoff’s doing, but your twists and turns through the enchanted penthouse eventually led you to a small, dark room, the only light coming from a small writing lamp, which illuminated what looked like a desk scattered with papers and the outline of a person.

“Can’t sleep?” They asked, and you took a step forward, eyes adjusting to see Ryan staring up at you.

“I meant to take a nap for an hour. It turned into, like, seven.” You responded, making him chuckle.

“Take a seat.”

You slid into the seat across from him and curled up, tucking your feet under you. You heard shuffling and then the room was suddenly a lot brighter, a set of sconces flaring to life behind the desk. You took in the room as Ryan sat back down and went back to his work. It seemed to have a delicate balance between old and new, with ancient-looking tomes and crumbling maps were strewn between circuit boards and tablets. Ryan was wearing glasses and was hunched over what looked like a box with a bunch of wires coming out of it, but you were sure it was probably a little more complicated than that.

“This is my office, but unlike Geoff, I don’t get the luxury of having a door.” Ryan piped up after a few minutes of silence, startling you a little.

“I’m sorry, I can leave…” You said, trailing off and dropping your feet to the floor.

“No, stay if you want to, I don’t mind. Just letting you know, I could tell you’re curious.” He explained it with the same vague, sort of enigmatic tone that you had discovered he was fond of. You nodded, and the two of you lapsed into silence again. Ryan was weird, to you. Now that you had gotten to know every member of Geoff’s crew a little better, you had deduced that Trevor wasn’t an apprentice, after all. In fact, you were sure that the two were fairly close in age (relatively speaking, of course. Your guess was that there was only about 150 or so years between the two vampires). Ryan’s knowledge of the world and its inhabitants vastly exceeded your own, and you found nearly every interaction with the older man turned into a lively history lesson – which you were genuinely happy for, even when Michael was groaning and threatening to smash his own face in just so he didn’t have to listen to it anymore. But while the others were relatively open and friendly, Ryan’s words always seemed to be cherry-picked carefully, things that seemed like they wouldn’t be secretive discussions riddled with vague half-comments. You wondered if Ryan just had a flair for dramatic (like Geoff), or if he was really as secretive of a person as he seemed. And even beyond that, you wondered why, when Trevor was the temperature of a nice, cool breeze, Ryan felt like ice that had just come out of a blast chiller.

“Something on your mind?” Ryan asked lightly, pulling you out of your own head. You hesitated to answer, not certain about how far you could reach before being offensive, how much you could pry before hurting someone’s feelings and breaking the fragile trust you had established.

“It might be too invasive to ask.” You finally settled on, dishing Ryan a taste of his own purposely vague medicine.

“You’ll find that there’s very few things in my entire life that I would consider too private to talk about, at my age.”

You sighed, “It’s only partially about you.”

“So, Trevor, then.” Ryan stated – and it was just that, a statement of fact, not even a _hint_ of a questioning lilt in his tone.

“Is it really that obvious?” You asked, fidgeting in your seat. Ryan glanced up at you over his glasses, a thoughtful expression on his face.

“Well, considering it’s only ‘partially’ about me, I’m assuming it’s a vampire ‘thing,’” He lifted one hand to enunciate his inflections with air quotes, “and beyond the fact that Trevor and I are the only vampires in AH, over the past week and a half or so, you’ve grown closest to Trevor – much closer than most of the rest of us combined.” Ryan’s voice dripped with hidden meaning, and he shot you a knowing smirk.

You blushed a little bit at that, embarrassed that your attachment to and subsequent crush on Trevor was that obvious, especially in that short of a period of time. You took solace in the stories that your mother had told you, time and time again, about how she had only known your father for a few hours before she knew he was The One and they shared their first kiss. And they’d been together for centuries, now.

You opened your mouth to respond, but Ryan beat you to it: “If you’re about to say, ‘I don’t want Trevor to find out and get upset with me,’ one; he won’t find out, and two; he won’t get upset. With me, maybe. But not with you.”

You _harrumphed_ and sunk further into your chair. You glanced around, even craning your neck to look behind you, and, satisfied that no one else was there to eavesdrop, you turned back to Ryan.

“Why are you so much colder than him?” You asked, watching intently for Ryan’s response. He set down the tools in his hand and pushed back a little so his chair rolled back, leisurely swinging his socked feet up to rest on the edge of the desk.

“He’ll tell you the details in his own time, but it’s no secret, so I’ll tell you the basics.” Ryan said, pressing his fingers together and resting them under his chin.

“A long time ago, right around the time that I first met him, Trevor had an…unfortunate run-in. He had been working with an angel at the time – she’s still a contact of ours, actually – and to make the story short, they had two options: let Trevor die or let him feed off of her angel blood without fully knowing what the consequences of that would be. Like a good friend, she chose the latter, which led to Trevor seeking me out for help.

“What neither of them knew, because at the time, side effects of magical blood were elite, Need-to-Know basis information – I won’t get into that, all you need to know is that ancient, crumbly-ass vampires are fucking dicks – was that by drinking an angel’s blood, even though it was only a little bit, Trevor became a little less _undead_. Sunlight doesn’t weaken him as much as it does me. He doesn’t _feel_ dead to the touch, like I do. He doesn’t need to drink as often as normal, unless he’s been exerting a lot of energy, and when he’s full he can even do life-y things like blush and eat a lot of ‘real’ food without getting a stomachache. He still has all of the typical weaknesses – wooden stakes to the heart, silver, decapitation, acid, the works – but he’s a little bit less dead than the rest of us. It’s the closest thing to the popular human myth of ‘day-walkers’ as vampires get. Does that answer your question?” Ryan finished, and you nodded, a little numbly. You didn’t know what you were expecting, but it wasn’t _that._

“Why – why doesn’t it happen more often, then?” You asked tentatively, leaning forward a little bit in your seat.

“Sometime between then and now, drinking non-Normal human or animal blood has been pretty much unanimously outlawed by both the High Vampiric Counsel and the community as a whole. There are exceptions, when it’s a dire situation and the ‘giving’ party has willingly consented, but those are mostly on a case-by-case basis. Why do you think that the effects of magical and mythical blood are never discussed in any of the books you’ve read about us? We operate under a sort of ‘ignorance is bliss’ mentality.” You found yourself nodding as Ryan spoke. It did make a lot of logical sense, after all. You stifled a yawn, and, as Ryan fell silent, you took that as your cue to leave.

“Don’t just start talking to him about it. I know you have more tact than that, but still. He probably won’t be too happy with me for stepping in instead of shutting up and directing you to him.” Ryan said as you stood, making you pause, and for a moment fear clutched your chest – _What if this was a bad idea? What if Trevor will hate you for going to Ryan instead of him?_ – but you pushed it away. Ryan said he wouldn’t be mad at you, and you hadn’t gone to Ryan at all, you had just stumbled upon his office, and the vampire had asked.

“Will do. Thanks, Ryan.” You told him, giving him a small smile before wandering away. It took you a while, but you eventually made it back to your ‘room’ – you hesitated to call it that, because it wasn’t yours, not really, not forever – and plonked down on your bed, falling asleep while this newfound information about the cute boy you liked swirled in your mind.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Originally posted at adscititious-cacoethes.tumblr.com

The next day went by relatively uneventful. You were on the phone with Blaine for a bit, the two of you discussing what days the store should remain open versus closed this week and when the next shipment was supposed to be coming in. The rest of the day was spent mostly just watching and/or playing video games with whoever was around in the entertainment room, or discussing the in’s and out’s of the Sight and auras with Jeremy (since that was the latest book he’d decided to read a bit from). You asked multiple people, multiple times if there was anything you could do to help, feeling rather useless, but they all said the same thing: there was a couple of dedicated people tracking Novus down, and it was pretty much a waiting game for everyone else.

You had changed into pajamas and were about to turn off your phone for the night when you heard a soft knock on your door. You called for whoever it was to come in, and the door creaked open, Trevor’s head poking through. When he saw you sitting against the headboard of the bed, smiling at him, he beamed and slipped through the doorway, shutting the door behind him. There was a moment where you could tell he was unsure where to go, so you just folded your legs up under you and patted the space in front of you on the bed. Trevor strode over and sat down in front of you, and now that he was up close you could see that he was wearing an old, threadbare t-shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

It was kind of _really_ cute, since that implied that he had come to visit you in his pajamas (and it wasn’t because you were screaming in the middle of the night this time).

“Hey.” You said, content with the silence, but your curiosity getting the better of you.

“Hey.” He echoed, head tilting to the side a bit.

You lapsed into silence again for a few minutes, the only sounds being your breathing and the gentle whirring of Gus’s tank water thing.

“Can I ask a question?” Trevor asked suddenly, finally breaking the silence.

“You already did, but sure.” You retorted, smiling cheekily, and Trevor let out a huff of laughter, rolling his eyes.

“Can I – can I touch your wings? I know it’s probably weird, and I read that some fae get really offended because wings are like, special things and I get that but what I read said that was mostly older fae and all things considering I don’t think you’re that old? Not that age is an issue or anything, but I know that faery wings are super sacred and special and whatever so the other night when you woke up I made sure that I didn’t accidentally touch them but I’ve never like, really met and interacted with a faery enough to befriend them and feel like it might not be all that weird if I asked but I think you’re cool and that we’re friends so I thought it might be okay? But I’ve always been curious what fae wings feel like so I wanted to ask, and it’s okay if you don’t want me to, like I said I get it if it’s too weird and I will totally act like this conversation never happened if you want me to.” Once he started going, he never stopped, words tumbling out on their own accord, a little disjointed and unlike you’d really experienced with Trevor before, so it took you a second to follow and fully understand what he was saying. Trevor was staring at you, worry etched across his face, and you could tell he was holding his breath, even though he didn’t need to breathe.

“Yeah, Trevor, go wash your hands and you can touch my wings, I don’t mind – I know you’ll be gentle.” You told him with a smile, and a warm, fuzzy feeling spread through you at the way Trevor beamed and jumped up from the bed, rushing into the bathroom. You pushed yourself forward on the bed a little bit, so that your wings weren’t pressed out against the headboard (Trevor could’ve touched them, there, too, but the fronts and backs of your wings felt a little bit different so you felt like you were holding out on him by only giving access to one side), and listened as the sink ran for a minute.

“Should I dry my hands?” Trevor called from the bathroom, and you bit back your giggle at the question.

_He doesn’t know any better, [Y/N], be nice._ You reminded yourself.

“Yeah, but don’t like, rub so hard that fuzzes from the towel get stuck to your fingers, yanno? They won’t hurt me or anything like that, but they’re kind of annoying if they get stuck.” You explained, and you heard Trevor grunt in acknowledgement, and then he was emerging from the bathroom and walking back towards you, a giddy smile on his face and a fond look in his eyes.

You ignored what you wanted that look to mean, and convinced yourself to chalk it up to Trevor being thankful that you were being willing to do something that he quite clearly had wanted to experience for some time.

“So, some explanation and ground rules. Faery wings, like butterfly wings, are stronger than they look, but like, grabbing them or pushing them in ways they’re not meant to be pushed can cause them to crumple and tear, so that’s not great. Since wings are like bones and skin, it can grow back and repair itself – with a little bit of help – a lot of the time, but sometimes it’s irreparable, like if they get burned or a tear goes too deep. Getting sticky things or a lot of dirt or gross stuff on them is, well, gross. And makes it hard to fly, so that’s why I had you wash your hands, just in case. And I can feel it, so don’t like squeeze really hard or whatever, but you don’t have to be like, feather-light – actually, that will probably tickle, so don’t do that, either.” You giggled a little, suddenly nervous.

You didn’t tell Trevor that the only non-family members that had ever purposely touched your wings in the 99 years, 11 months, and 13 days you’d been alive have been Blaine and Mica, the former because you had gotten your wing stuck on a shelf once and the latter because she, like Trevor, had been curious. But Mica had been a lot less cautious and shy about it.

Trevor sat on the edge of the bed next to you, and you could feel him staring at you for a long minute, but you stopped yourself from turning to look at him because that would pull your wings away from him, and that was the whole point, wasn’t it? So instead you stared straight ahead, watching from your peripherals as Trevor’s arm reached towards you.

His touch was light, yet not ghosting, firm in a way that told you Trevor had not only listened to your rambling speech about wings but hung on to every word. You let out a small, happy sigh as he ran his hand down the front side of your forewing. It wasn’t sexual by any means, but it still felt nice, like when someone runs their fingers through your hair or when you scratch a dog behind the ears. Trevor repeated the action a couple of times before shifting and reaching around to the back of your wings. You knew from being taught about fae by your mother growing up and from having to wash and clean your wings that the outside was a little tougher and rougher, since it faced away from you and took the brunt of things like the weather and the wind.

Trevor, however, didn’t know this, and let out a surprised sound when his fingertips rubbed against it. You let Trevor continue to explore for a while, content with humming to yourself and letting him get the most out of something that you knew not many non-faeries got the privilege of experiencing.

“They’re so beautiful.” You heard Trevor murmur under his breath, so soft you could barely hear it, and you couldn’t tell whether it was something that he even meant to say out loud so you kept your mouth shut, even as a hot blush rose to your cheeks and you hummed just a tiny bit louder, waiting to see if he’d repeat it like you couldn’t hear him.

“You know,” You started, a minute or two after Trevor had spoken (and not repeated it – so you concluded that it wasn’t meant for you and if that didn’t give your stomach butterflies you weren’t sure what would), and the vampire immediately stilled and pulled his hand away, “no, you can keep going, it’s fine. Anyway, you didn’t have to read Jeremy’s book to find a ‘proper way’ of asking me about this, you could’ve just asked.”

Trevor coughed a little bit, and you had a feeling it’d been involuntary, “Well, I didn’t know how to approach it, I’d never thought about ever asking someone until I um, started getting to know you. I figured it’d help, maybe. But it didn’t say anything about the stuff that you told me, just that wings are fragile and you have to ask permission to touch them, first.”

“Well, the book I gave Jeremy is more for non-fae to learn about fae. It’s not geared towards us, so it doesn’t include a lot of the like, ‘general fae health and knowledge’ stuff. Although I have a couple of those types of books, all of them good but written by different people, if you’d like to learn more. Or, you can just ask me.” You explained, silently wishing for the latter.

“How do you clean them?” It seemed like your wish had come true.

“Uh, yanno, they get rinsed off every time I shower. On average, you should actually wash-wash them once, maybe twice a week. I usually do twice because of all the dust a bookstore creates. It’s just like, a loofa or a wet rag and some sensitive-skin body wash. I use Johnson & Johnson, cause that shit’s great for both babies _and_ faery wings.”

The two of you went back and forth for a while after that, Trevor asking question after question about fae and you doing your best to explain, the tall boy’s cool hands on your wings the whole time. When you finally grew tired enough that you couldn’t get through a sentence without yawning, Trevor insisted that you go to bed, because he’d _“kept you up long enough”_ , thanking you for letting him touch your wings (which you realized belatedly that it sounded dirty when phrased like that) and putting up with his constant stream of questions. You laughed, insisting that it wasn’t a bad thing at all, and you enjoyed talking to him about it, before he was slipping out the door and you were turning off your light, falling asleep with the phantom feeling of Trevor’s cool hands on your wings.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains mild danger and tension. (and also pining and bff Mica)
> 
> Originally posted at adscititious-cacoethes.tumblr.com

A knock on your door (what were you kidding, it wasn’t a knock, it was a _pound_ ) roused you from sleep. You reached out blindly for your phone, and, once you discovered that it was only six in the morning, groaned and pulled yourself out of bed. Flinging open the door, you found yourself face-to-face with a serious-looking Jeremy.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, immediately sobering up.

“Someone just tried to attack Mica and Blaine. They didn’t get in, Mica’s security system is literally insane, wow, but they didn’t see who it was, except for they tried to teleport in and that set the alarm off. They’re okay, but Geoff told Trevor and Ryan – they were already awake, working on something or other – to go and get them and bring them here. Trevor asked me to wake you up and tell you what was going on so you weren’t out of the loop. We called Jack, him and Ashley are with your parents and Geoff’s friend, but he’s going to stay with them for a while. This Novus asshole and his cronies seem to be staying in the area, but we want to be cautious and stuff.” You stared at Jeremy, wide-eyed, as your stomach turned to lead and a lump got caught in your throat.

“Holy shit.” You croaked, taking a staggering step backwards, and Jeremy followed, arms out like he was preparing to catch you.

“Hey, it’s alright, we’ll get this asshole, don’t worry. Mica and Blaine are safe. Mica didn’t even sound scared on the phone, she just called because she thought it’d be helpful to let us know.” Jeremy tried to reassure you as you continued to back up on shaking legs until your calves ran into it, falling onto it like a sack of potatoes.

“I – I’m sure she wasn’t, she’s not the type to get freaked out by shit like that. But still.” Your vision swam a little, and for a second you couldn’t figure out why, until hot tears ran down your cheeks. Even though you knew that this was undoubtedly an attack on your father, it felt like one on you. You couldn’t help but think that this was the direct result of thwarting your Prediction of Ashley – you saved one person from potentially being hurt, but at the cost of jeopardizing the safety of two others.

Jeremy handed you a tissue, which you took gratefully, and then awkwardly sat down next to you and patted you on the back. You weren’t sobbing by any means, but you could tell that Jeremy wasn’t necessarily used to having to comfort crying people, so you did your best to try to curb your tears and get your head back on straight.

It took a little bit, but once you were dry-eyed, you followed Jeremy to the kitchen and entertainment room, where it seemed that Geoff had called in the whole group, and a few faces that you didn’t recognize. Michael and Gavin were sitting on stools at the island, both with beers in their hands, despite the fact that it wasn’t even 7 AM yet. Lindsay was quietly talking to a woman with long brown hair and glasses at the kitchen table. In the other room, Geoff was half-collapsed into a recliner, while a man with shoulder-length hair and dyed tips stared intently at something on his phone, a semi-translucent man floating off to the side.

“That’s Meg, Gavin’s girlfriend.” Jeremy said, gesturing to the woman who was sitting at the table. She looked up at the sound of her name and smiled at you, waving a manicured hand. You blinked, and her aura flared to life (light blue, rolling out of her in soft waves, _water nymph_ ) as did your best to smile back and return the greeting.

“That’s Matt,” _shifter,_ “and Larry.” Larry stayed exactly the same under the scrutiny of the Sight, so that, combined with his transparency, narrowed him down to either a ghost or a poltergeist. Neither man seemed to hear Jeremy, both continuing what they were doing in the other room. Lindsay pulled out the chair on her other side and patted the seat with her hand.

“Come have a seat, [Y/N], Trevor and Ryan said they’d pick up coffee and donuts on their way back to the penthouse.” She said, and you complied, curling yourself into a ball on the chair. You watched out of the corner of your eye as Jeremy wandered over towards the couch Matt was sitting on and plopped down next to him.

You spent the next twenty or so minutes trying your best to participate in the conversation that Lindsay and Meg had graciously pulled you into without any probing or comments, stomach rolling in a sickening sort of way, until both Jeremy and Geoff sat bolt upright, garnering the attention of everyone in the room.

“The dicks are back.” Geoff announced as Jeremy beamed and started scrambling off the back of the couch.

“Forget that, they brought food!” Jeremy shouted as he ran out of the room, Matt hot on his heels.

Sure enough, the two men came in a few minutes later, Matt already with a donut stuffed in his mouth and both of them holding bags and boxes in their arms. Mica and Blaine followed, both with drink holders full of presumably coffees in their hands, with Trevor and Ryan bringing up the rear. You jumped to your feet, and as soon as your friends had set down the drinks you flung an arm around each of them, pulling them into a hug.

“I’m sorry, and I’m glad you’re okay.” You whispered, and Mica just squeezed you tighter in response.

“You have nothing to be sorry for.” Blaine whispered back, ruffling your hair as he pulled away. You released Mica in favor of swatting away the offending hand, making all three of you giggle. You looked up, and behind Mica, Trevor just standing there, awkwardly shifting from one foot to the other.  The two of you locked eyes, and you vaguely registered Mica elbowing Blaine and gesturing to you before pulling him away, Mica squeezing your bicep gently as they passed. Trevor took a step forward, so you did, too. The room filled with chatter again, or it had always been filled with chatter and you had just blocked it out for a bit, you weren’t sure, but you could hear Mica behind you, introducing Meg to Blaine (apparently the two women knew each other – who knew?). A little bit closer, and you saw that he had dark bags under his eyes, but you could See his aura was still decently red. Not just-fed bright, but not the scary, dark color that it had been a few days ago.

You wanted to say _I missed you_.

You wanted to say _This is my fault._

You wanted to say _Thank you for helping my friends._

You didn’t say any of that.

“You look tired, Trev.” You said instead, and immediately bit on your tongue, trying not to cringe and frown at the fact that you just called him a nickname that you had heard before, but he hadn’t said it was okay for _you_ to say it. Trevor, however, lit up like a Christmas tree, and you tried to push back those negative thoughts. A movement caught your eye and you glanced over to see that Ryan was standing close to a still-eating Jeremy but was watching you and Trevor with an unreadable expression on his face.

“I’d inform you that I’m a creature of the night.” He said, putting on a bit of a suave, smooth tone and placing his hands on his hips, making you laugh.

“Yeah, but even creatures of the night need to sleep sometime. Take a nap? Please?” You tried to keep the worry out of your voice, but you could still hear it and resorted to hoping that Trevor hadn’t picked up on it.

Trevor sighed, but nodded, “Alright, but only because you asked so nicely. Come and get me if you need anything, okay?” He waited until you had nodded and assured him that you would if you had to before leaving the room.

“Girl, you got it bad.” You nearly jumped out of your skin at Mica’s voice right next to your ear. The goddess was leaned in close, so much so that you had to step back as you turned to face her.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, and we’re not going to discuss it in a room full of ten other people.” You hissed, glaring at her, but she just laughed.

“Okay, whatever you say.” She said in a tone that you knew meant she didn’t believe a single word you said, throwing her hands up in surrender.

 

***

 

This time, when Geoff brought up the whole “staying in the penthouse until further notice” thing, you conceded, which meant that Lindsay and Meg went to go post a sign in your window, and you and Blaine spent the entire morning on the phone, cancelling and moving shipments around and calling people with orders and preorders that were supposed to be picking them up this week that you had had a “family emergency” and the shop would be closed “until next week, at least”. The good news was that the majority of your customers were understanding about it, sending you their well-wishes. The bad news was, that with your _dual clientele_ , even between the two of you, it was almost noon by the time everyone had been called and dealt with.

Blaine had gone to work out with Jeremy, after the werewolf told him that they have a fully-stocked gym, and you were debating if you felt like trying to find your way back to the room you were staying in or if you should eat lunch, first, when Trevor padded into the kitchen.

“Sup, sleepy head?” You teased, and Trevor scowled playfully at you.

“Hey now, you’re the one who made me go nap, you’re not allowed any jokes about it.”

“I didn’t _make_ you do anything.” You insisted as Trevor poured some water in a kettle and set it on the stove.

“Yeah, but you asked, so I wasn’t about to say no.” He responded like he was telling you about the weather, but your heart pounded in your chest and your stomach flip-flopped.

_That means he likes me, right?_ You thought to yourself, trying to ignore the part of you that was painfully aware that “like” doesn’t necessarily mean “I-think-you’re-cute-want-to-kiss-me?” like and could mean “I-think-you’re-a-cool-cat-let’s-be-friends” like.

“What do you want for lunch? We’ve got a ton of shit in here.” Trevor asked, opening the fridge up so you both could see inside.

You pushed away your trains of thought as best you could, opting to focus on making lunch with Trevor (after debate, you decided on grilled ham and cheese, which sparked a long debate about why “grilled cheese” was called that, when over half the time it wasn’t actually _grilled_ ) and enjoying his undivided attention.

Yeah, you had it bad, but you weren’t about to actually, verbally _admit_ that to anyone…until Mica came barging into your room that night.

“Alright, we’re alone, door’s closed, can’t escape, so _bitch_ I swear you better tell me what’s up with you and tall, dark, and fangy _right now_.” She demanded, pointing an accusatory finger at you.

“Tall, dark, and fangy? Really?” You raised an eyebrow at her, and she rolled her eyes in response.

“Best I could come up with while _enraged_ that you didn’t clue me in sooner!” Mica said defensively, making herself at home on the bed. You fell back so that you were laying down, feet dangling off the side and face near her knees.

“Clue you in to _what_ , Mica, _I_ don’t even know what’s going on.”

“Well it’s obvious you like him.”

You sighed, “Yes, Mica, fine, you’ve wrenched it out of me. I like Trevor, I think he’s cute and I’m pretty sure I have a massive crush on him. But it’s just that: a silly crush.” You let yourself get heavy on the jabbing sarcasm, but just saying it out loud made something relax a little inside of you.

“Honey, it is _way more_ than a crush,” She scoffed and rolled her eye, “Sooooo, you have to tell me all about him, how did you two meet?” asked Mica, giddy, leaning forward and pushing at your shoulder.

“You know how we met, in an alley when those guys were chasing me.” You deadpanned, rolling your eyes.

Mica either hadn’t been paying attention when you told that story the first time or she was playing it up for fun (probably the latter), because she just _ooooo_ ’d and sighed softly, “He defended you from the first moment you met, how _romantic_!”

“Yeah, well, I blasted a banshee in the mouth, so it wasn’t completely one-sided.” You huffed, a little indignant. Mica nudged your arm with her shoe.

“Girl, I know you can take care of yourself, it’s just cute, okay?”

“Yeah, yeah.” You waved her off, playing up your annoyance, but a smile was still slowly creeping across your face. Mica swatted at you and you both dissolved into giggles for a few minutes.

“Tell me what you think about him.” She asked once you’d caught your breath.

“I dunno. He’s really nice, and thoughtful. He sends me cute videos of puppies. He’s super cute, he seems like he’s a dependable sort of person. He didn’t immediately assume that Blaine and I are together. He’s supportive and protective – he yelled at Michael cause of me, once, and he stood up to Geoff, his _boss_ , to help me get Geoff to sort of see things from my perspective. And, uh. He’s touched my wings.” You trailed off at the last part, whispering it and hoping that Mica wouldn’t hear you, wouldn’t notice.

You were very, _very_ wrong.

“What the _fuck?_ Really? Oh my god, when? Why? Was it like when Blaine had to detach you from that shelving unit?” Mica demanded, sitting upright and bending over you so she could look you in the eye, her long, dark hair tickling your ear.

“Uh, last night? Because he asked? He was super nervous and shy about it, but he said he was curious, so I figured there was no harm in it? He was really like, inquisitive and stuff, asked a lot of questions. It was kind of nice that he was so interested.”

“Yeah, interested in _you_ , girl! Don’t get me wrong, I could see the other day that he seemed super into you but this is like icing on the cake.” Mica gushed, flinging herself back into the pillows again. You rolled onto your stomach and sat your chin in your hands.

“You seem like you’re reading into this, Mica. Is this because I haven’t gone on a date since the eighties?” You asked, peering at her.

“No! [Y/N], when you’ve been around as long as I have, you just _know_ these things, okay? And I _know_ that Trevor likes you.”

“And I _know_ that right now, it’s his job to make sure I’m safe and shit, so he could just be a really nice guy.”

Mica rolled her eyes, but dropped the subject, instead letting you question her about her trip to Egypt for a while, before you finally kicked her out of your room so you could go to bed.

 

***

 

Even though Lindsay had sort of alluded to it, and Ryan acted like he knew something was up, and sometimes Jeremy seemed like he knew something about it that you didn’t, talking to Mica felt like a weight had been lifted off your shoulders.

Of course, this also meant that Mica tried to “subtly” (read: not subtly at all) push the two of you together every chance she got over the next couple days. Eventually, Blaine got nosy and felt left out so Mica blabbed to him, and then _both_ of them were hounding you.

Trevor, for his part, either didn’t notice or _acted_ like he didn’t notice, because he just carried on like business was usual. He did, however, knock on your door every night to come and chat with you. It quickly fell into a habit – it had only been a few days, so you were hesitant to call it a routine – where the two of you would sit, side-by-side, against your headboard. You would put on something random on Netflix, the laptop sitting in between Trevor’s legs and yours, and in between conversations about things that either (or both) of you liked and stories from your childhoods, you’d lapse into a comfortable silence filled by the show you had picked for the night.

Most of the time, things stayed pretty light, but every once in a while, one of you would ask a more serious, more personal question.

Once, it was you: _“Since becoming a vampire, have you ever almost died?”,_ you had asked, knowing that the answer was _yes_ but being pleasantly surprised when Trevor told you the full story about himself, an angel friend named Steffie (he made a point to emphasize that the two of them were ever only just friends, which you thought the specificity was weird but couldn’t help but also feel relieved about? Which just confirmed that you had caught the Feelings), and the vampire that had turned him. Although you knew what happened – Trevor _was_ sitting next to you, decades later, after all – it still hurt your heart to hear it, and after giving Trevor your sympathy and telling him that you were very happy he was okay and here, today, the two of you lapsed into a very long silence, touching from shoulder to knee.

Another notable time, it was him: _“When I stole Jeremy’s book it said something about Marks? But it didn’t go into detail. I’m assuming you have them hidden?”_ , he had asked, and you had sighed and explained how Marks were both familial ties and visual representations of your life so far. How when fae turn dark and renounce the Seelie Court to become Unseelie fae, they go through a ritual where all of their Mark is sliced open with an iron blade, so that the Marks don’t come back when healed, and that’s why Unseelie have all those scars. How most fae stay in their own communities, away from humanity, because Marks are a special sort of thing, and many faeries don’t believe that non-Seelie fae have the right to bear witness to their most natural form. How no-one that wasn’t fae – besides Trevor the night you had your nightmare Prediction – has ever seen you in your more “normal”, Marked “form.”

You told him how the skin color Trevor saw at that moment was just the one that you picked for yourself, an illusion of your own design, because fae skin is unnaturally colored and sort of gives off a glow (yes, like Tinker Bell), so to blend in with other humanoid species, fae just pick whatever skin color they fancy when they throw up the illusion. Trevor put a hand on your shoulder (the one with the bigass grape leaf that most definitely represented him, of _course_ ) and squeezed gently as he told you that he did his best to keep his eyes on your face or away from you entirely that night, after he had pulled you down onto his lap, because he had a feeling that it wasn’t something he was supposed to see without you allowing him to see it.

You wanted to cry at his kindness and consideration for you, and for the first time since you met him, you couldn’t deny the fact that that _meant_ something, that you _meant enough_ to Trevor for him to not want to see your Marks until you showed them to him (even if he wasn’t sure what they were at the time).

Mica was right – this was more than a silly crush.

You were super _duper_ fucked.


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last chapter!  
> Thank you for reading!   
> Warning!!! This chapter is where some of the tags apply, if you'd like to know which ones, scroll to the end notes and it'll tell you! I don't want to put them up here and do like, big spoilers, although I'm sure that everyone can guess what's going to happen.  
> Feedback is appreciated!!!  
> Enjoy!
> 
> Originally posted at adscititious-cacoethes.tumblr.com

It had been nearly a week since Blaine and Mica had been brought into “quarantine” at the penthouse with you, and you could tell they were both getting antsy. You had more than enough interaction with people every day to keep you satisfied, and plenty of books to keep your mind occupied, and, about once a day, you would try to meditate to trigger another Prediction, but none had come. However, since Blaine and Mica had (quickly) grown tired of poking fun at you (aka trying to get you and Trevor together) due to the only reaction out of you being eye rolls and glares and Trevor not even seeming to notice at all, they had begun to get on edge. And with Novus having seemingly gone off the grid, there was no immediate end in sight.

“Can’t I just go visit my dad in Egypt until this blows over?” Mica had nearly _whined_ at breakfast that morning.

“But then you’d be leaving _me_ here!” Blaine argued. You just shook your head and shared a look with Jeremy, who kept scratching his nose and had decided to continue reading _Wolves! Were?: A New Wolf’s Guide to His Inner Beast_ that day.

“I can take you with me, Gibson, but you probably wouldn’t like the heat.”

“Anything to get me out of this damn penthouse!”

“What are you dicks damning my penthouse for?” Geoff’s raspy voice made everyone except for Jeremy jump (the werewolf, of course, smelling the warlock the moment he walked in the room).

“I’m sorry for my friends, Geoff.” You told him at the same time Mica declared, “We’re getting stir crazy in this place!”

“Well, tough luck, unless you can teleport there, which I doubt either of you can do. Even though Novus is after [Y/N], we have no idea what _exactly_ he can do, and since some fae can possess people, I don’t want to take any chances.” Geoff stated as he poured himself some coffee, resulting in annoyed grumbling noises from your best friends.

Jeremy scratched his nose again, “What should I do, Geoff?” he inquired, looking up from his book at the warlock.

“If we don’t resolve this tonight, we may have to stick you in the basement this time. Sorry, buddy.” Geoff said with a sympathetic smile. Jeremy frowned and his shoulders slumped, but he nodded regardless.

“Wait, what? What’s going on?” Blaine asked, gaze bouncing between the two men. You reached out and softly cuffed him upside the head.

“Ow!” He exclaimed, hand flying to the back of his head, “What was that for?”

“The full moon’s tomorrow night, idiot.” You admonished him with a shake of your head, watching as understanding dawned in his eyes.

“It’s alright, [Y/N].” Jeremy reassured you, shifting in his seat a little.

Mica and Blaine weren’t the only ones getting restless, just for a different reason. 

So, naturally, you spent the majority of the day hiding, reading to Gus and avoiding your friends because while you knew they didn’t blame you, you certainly felt shitty and responsible for their misery. And, on top of that, Jeremy would probably have to spend about twenty-four hours in a basement instead of running around doing wolfy things, and that made it even _worse_ , because you were now a hassle to the people trying to protect you, too.

The only solace for the day, really, was a cheerful-as-ever Trevor (heh. That rhymed), who had brought dinner to you without you even asking. The two of you ate in silence, you on the bed and him at the desk, and then Trevor was scooping up your plate and waltzing out the door with a sing-song _“Be right back!”_

You went into the bathroom and washed your hands, humming something sort of tuneless as you dried your hands with a towel and walked back into the bedroom.

“You know, you’re almost more trouble than your worth.” A thin voice sneered, and you whipped your head up to see a fae that you knew could only be Novus, with pointed teeth and only one and a half wings sitting on your bed, rolling the hilt of a dagger between his hands. His friend, the Unseelie from the alley, was leaning up against the door, sneering at you with pointed teeth and a predatory look in his eyes. Your heart pounded in your chest and all the wind felt like it had been sucked out of you, all at once.

_This can’t be real. This can’t be happening._ Your panicked mind tried to deny it, but you also knew there was no denying the fact that _somehow_ , the fae in front of you had teleported (presumably) into _Geoff’s_ penthouse.

Geoff’s. _Fuck_. You had been spending your time – _all of you_ had been spending your time – assuming that Geoff’s penthouse, which was essentially his _fortress_ , was impenetrable, and yet you were staring at proof otherwise.

_Wait_. The rational side of your brain caught up with you, _Trevor said he’d be right back. All you have to do is stall._

“You know, your big friend over here said that to me the first time, and if I remember correctly, that ended up with him getting shot.” You finally retorted, sounding much calmer than you felt. You stood up a little straighter, letting your feet lift off the ground slightly.

Big Sharp Teeth growled at you and lunged forward, and you instinctively hurled up a barrier, your energy pooling in your hands and being thrown into the air in front of you before you could think about the consequences. He didn’t reach your barrier, however, because Novus stopped him with a hand on his chest before he could get that far.

“Now, now, Aven, calm down.” Novus tutted, seemingly unperturbed by the defenses you had just constructed, and you realized belatedly that if he was a teleporter like Big Sharp Teeth ( _Aven_ ), he could easily bypass it entirely. You dropped the barrier and crossed your arms over your chest.

“Do you want to know _why_ you’re more trouble than your worth? All I wanted to do was kill Robin [Y/L/N]’s precious daughter, his _only child_ , so he could begin the pain I’ve felt, the pain he solidified by ensuring that I was imprisoned. I was on top of the world, and had lost _everything_! And he had no _pity_ for me, because I found a better, more _rewarding_ lifestyle in rejecting the Seelie Court. It was going to be simple: Aven and his friend would capture you, and bring you to me, and then I was going to drop your dead body on your father’s doorstep for him to discover when he got back from _vacation_. But _nooooo,_ you had to go and happen to run into some of Ramsey’s pets, and the bloodsuckers helped you get away. Fine. So then I was going to use my special talents and possess one of your friends to get around Ramsey’s guard dogs, but then the stupid goddess’s security system detected Aven’s entry. So I had to resort to this. Do you know how _long_ it took to find someone who we could fly in at a moment’s notice, who could send us through Geoff _fucking_ Ramsey’s barriers!” Novus was seething, hissing and spitting as he shouted at you, and you were paralyzed, terrified that if you so much as flinched he would be throwing that iron dagger straight into your chest.

But Novus’ ranting, raving speech also reminded you that they were in Geoff’s house, and Geoff _always_ knew when people entered and exited his home, and if Geoff knew, then everyone knew, unless whoever they had found to get them through Geoff’s protective spells and barriers could also mask their existence from the warlock entirely. It was highly improbable, considering Geoff’s apparent magical strength, but not impossible.

“Sorry not sorry?” You offered, frowning a bit at the fact that Novus just cackled, the sound dark and thick and menacing, washing over you like tar and sticking to your bones.

Underneath his maniacal laughter, you hear shouting from down the hall, and then a _thud_ against your door the force of it pitched Aven forward and bent the door. Novus immediately sobered up, and in the blink of an eye, he was in front of you, pushing you against the wall, one arm across your chest to pin you there and the iron dagger resting against your neck. You immediately started to feel it burning your skin, and you did your best to pull your head away, but there was nowhere for you to go with the wall at your back.

“What did you do? How did you alert them so _fast_?” Novus spit in your face, eyes wild.

_Thud._

“Boss! What do I do?”

“Just hold the door, dipshit.”

Novus pushed the knife into your skin, just a little bit, and just underneath his chin, you could see Aven’s magical energy flaring to life, most likely trying to reinforce the door.

_Thud. Creak._

You felt blood welling up against the dagger, the blade searing hot against your skin, and the burning smell started to waft into your nose.

“Better do this quick, then.” Novus sneered, eyes glinting with hunger and malice.

_Smash!_

The door shattered, and Novus’s head blocked your view, but the _thud_ that immediately followed was probably Aven.

“[Y/N]!” It was Trevor, thank _fuck_ it was Trevor, _of course it was Trevor,_ and you watched Novus’s eyes go wide and nearly bug out of his head as he was quite literally _ripped_ away from you. You covered your injured neck (why was it always your neck?) with your hand and slid down the wall, landing on your ass and looking up to see Trevor, eyes a dark red and fangs glinting, scrape his teeth against Novus’s neck while his hands wrapped around the Unseelie’s forearms with a crushing strength, the knife dropping out of his fingers. Behind him, a hulking demon stood, shoulders hunched and horns scraping across the ceiling, one clawed foot holding down and crushing the wings of an unmoving Aven.

Novus shrieked and thrashed, but Trevor was stronger, and you heard the sickening _crunch_ of his bones cracking in the vampire’s grip.

“Now, now, none of that, stop your screaming, you kretin.” You heard Gavin say, and while you felt a little bit of the pull of the siren’s call, it wasn’t aimed at you. Novus immediately fell silent, whipping his head around to look at Gavin. You turned, too, craning your neck around your dresser to see the doorway, where Gavin stood, fist clenched and chest heaving. You could hear the footsteps and shouts of the others getting closer. Gavin didn’t move from the doorway until Geoff laid a hand on his shoulder, and even then he only stepped aside, not breaking eye contact to let a furious-looking Geoff and a stone-faced Lindsay through.

It was then that you finally registered the slick blood slowly leaking through your fingers, and even then, it was only because Mica had appeared in the doorway and was staring at you, horrified.

Geoff bent down and picked up the dagger. You could tell that he was holding his tongue, you could tell he wanted to scream and curse and flay the bastard that Trevor was holding alive with that knife. But instead, he held the dagger in an open palm, and turned to Lindsay.

She stared at Novus, “Your time has come.” She said, but her voice was not her own, booming and it seemed like it echoed tenfold, and you swore you could see an outline of a bird’s wings spreading out from her back. Geoff nodded, and a deep purple glow surrounded the dagger, before it thrusted itself (well, Geoff did it, but magically, not physically) deep into the Unseelie’s chest, right through the heart. Novus gurgled blue blood and dropped to the ground as Trevor let go of him, the demon slowly turning back into Michael in the background, Gavin closing his eyes and giving his head a firm shake. Trevor immediately turned towards you, falling to his knees in front of you and cradling your face in his hands.

“Are you okay?” He asked, earnestly, and his eyes were their normal, soft, earthy brown as they scanned your face, fangs retracting as his lips dropped into a concerned frown.

You nodded as best you could with your face in his hands, before a dark hand was on Trevor’s shoulder, pulling him back and kneeling beside you. Trevor made a move to protest but Mica just glared at him before blocking your line of sight to him with your head.

“Need you to move your hand so I can work my magic, girl.” She murmured, voice soft and soothing, and you let your bloody hand fall into your lap. Her own fingertips immediately pressed against where the dagger bit your flesh, and you could feel her warm, healing magic at work. Mica’s eyes slid shut and she muttered under her breath in a language you couldn’t comprehend (ancient Egyptian, probably), and after a few long moments, her eyes flickered open and she dropped her hands.

“You’ll probably still have a little scar, since it’s iron that did it, but you’re good now, [Y/N].” She stood and moved to offer you a hand up, but Trevor was faster.

The vampire darted forward and scooped you up into his arms, pulling you to his chest and burying his face in your hair. You could feel his lips moving, but it took you a moment to figure out what he was saying, but the muffled _“I’m sorry, I’m sorry”_ was unmistakable once you’d deciphered it, and you wrapped your own arms around his midsection. You could hear the others chattering in the background; Michael and Jeremy hauling bodies out the door; Geoff was on the phone with someone. But that didn’t matter. All that mattered was Trevor, right then, right there. Trevor who was the first one in the room. Trevor who pulled Novus off you. Trevor who came to your rescue when you were too scared to do anything but hope help would come and try to buy yourself time. Trevor who was holding you like you were his lifeline. Trevor whose tears were falling into your hair.

You would later find out that whoever it was that had helped Novus and Aven get in had put a “blinder,” of sorts, on Geoff’s alarm, which would delay, temporarily, the activation of the charm that told him when people entered and exited the penthouse. Trevor would tell you that he had heard Novus speaking when he went to open your door, so he shouted for help and rammed his shoulder against it when the knob wouldn’t turn. Michael would tell you that he had heard Trevor from inside his room three doors down and, upon rushing into the hallway and seeing Trevor slamming his body into the door, immediately pulled the emergency alarm and shifted into his demon form, shoving Trevor out of the way to break the door down. Jeremy would tell you that he could _smell_ Trevor’s rage and fear from down the hall, so strong, and he was unprepared enough that it made him stagger back and he would’ve fallen over if it wasn’t for Ryan stepping up behind him and catching him around the waist.

All of that was later, though. Right then, in that moment, Trevor was crying, so you pulled away a little to look up at him, reached up to wipe away a stray tear. One of his hands immediately slid to cup your face again, and when he gently rubbed his thumb across your cheek, you realized that you were crying, too.

“I’m sorry.” He whispered again, resting his forehead against yours, gaze drifting across your face, like he was searching for something and you held the answer.

“I’m okay.” You said, smiling a slightly watery smile at him, unsure of what else to say. And you were. You could still feel the phantom burn of Novus’s blade, and your wings ached from being slammed against the wall, but Mica had healed your wound and you had been quick enough to spread your wings open so that they didn’t get crumpled against the wall when Novus pushed you back. And Trevor was there, now, and maybe it was the fact that you liked him more than you had liked anyone in the world, ever, but you felt unbelievably safe when being held in his arms.

“Okay.” He breathed, and then you felt him square his shoulders, like he was preparing for something, and then the hand on your chin was tilting your chin up while his head dipped forward and then you were kissing.

Trevor was kissing you.

His lips were soft and his kisses gentle, just barely a brush of skin against skin. You almost couldn’t believe it, you felt like you were floating, but you reminded yourself to _kiss back, damnit_ and then you were actually floating (if Trevor’s hands sliding to your hips and holding you there was any indication). As soon as he felt you respond and your arms reached up and wrapped around the back of his neck the kiss turned deeper, like he was desperate – like you were the air and he needed to breathe, but _you_ were the one that needed air, not him, and you had to reluctantly break away and suck in some air.

The others in the room (because there were others, but you’d forgotten they were there) had politely allowed the two of you to have that moment, but as soon as she saw you pull away, Mica let out a loud wolf-whistle. You blushed and pressed your face into Trevor’s chest, but he just chuckled and smoothed a hand down your hair, whispering promises of safety and protection in your ear.

 

***

 

You stayed in Trevor’s room that night – your first time entering his room, actually, although you’re not sure why _that_ panned out that way – and you barely had the words _“Can you stay?”_ out of your mouth before Trevor was sliding into bed next to you, pulling you against his chest and pressing a kiss to your forehead with a mumbled _“Of course_. _”_

The next morning, your stomach churning at the thought of entering “your” room in the penthouse ever again, you timidly asked Geoff if it was possible to make the room just…go away. Geoff smiled a kind, sleepy smile, and Michael and Gavin graciously offered to take Gus and all of your stuff out of your room and deposit it in Trevor’s for you (Lindsay offered to supervise). After breakfast, you and Trevor and Geoff drove to the airport in a large passenger van, with the intent of picking up Jack, Ashley, and your parents. Although you knew it was over and everyone was _fine_ , you still couldn’t stop yourself from pacing, shifting from foot to foot, regardless of how many times Geoff told you to _cool it._

Trevor, eventually, took matters into his own hands (literally), pulling you into his side and wrapping an arm around your waist. When you looked up to question him, he just took the opportunity to lean down and press a kiss to your forehead. Geoff was noticeably less annoyed after that, but you could tell that he was trying (and failing) to subtly take pictures of the two of you.

The reunion with your parents and Ashley felt like something out of a movie. You saw them before they saw you, so you called their names and waved your hand in the air. Trevor let go of you and took a step backwards seconds before your father scooped you up into a hug, tears in his eyes as he spun you around. When he finally set you back on the ground, you saw your mom and Ashley standing there, waiting, the former with teary eyes and both with knowing smirks on their faces. You took turns hugging them both, your mom whispering to you about how _proud of you_ she was and _how brave you were_.

You sheepishly introduced your parents to Trevor, who seemed pretty relaxed about it until your mother denied the offer of his hand in favor of a hug. His eyes went wide and he stared at you in fear over top of your mom’s head, which caused you and Ashley to dissolve into tittering giggles.

A few minutes later, Jack and a blonde woman you didn’t recognize – but you assumed was the warlock friend of Geoff’s – joined the group, having apparently elected to get the checked baggage before meeting up with you. You were too busy trying to tell your dad that you and Trevor were dating without being too obvious or giving him room to make a scene about it to notice the fact that Geoff nearly cried when he saw her, but you made a mental note to ask Trevor about it later when Geoff let Jack drive in favor of holding her hand in the backseat.

You smiled up at Trevor, who leaned down and kissed your nose, and nothing had felt more _right_ in your life.

 

***

 

A week later, after your parents had gone home and _Books and More Books_ had resumed business, you and Trevor were sitting on your bed (in your apartment – you didn’t want to give it up just yet in fear of making it seem like things were going “too fast,” even though the Mark on your shoulder told you that at the very least, the two of you would be “together” for a long time), in a familiar pose. The TV was on and the two of you were just talking about nothing, only instead of sitting side-by-side, you were curled up in his lap, your head on his chest, one of his arms around your waist and the other idly playing with your wings.

“Hey Trevor?” You started, lifting your head a little to look up at him (even though from your angle, you couldn’t see much more than his stubbly chin).

“Hmm?”

“Want to know a secret?” You asked, and Trevor you away from his chest a bit so he could look you in the eye.

“Of course, I’m always down for secrets, especially when it’s you.” He said, a fond smile on his face. He punctuated ‘you’ with a long, cool finger reaching up to gently _boop_ you on the nose.

You nodded, and took a deep breath, and then you willed your illusion away. Trevor’s eyes went wide, and you could see the faint glow you knew you were giving off reflected in them.

“You’re _beautiful._ ” He breathed as he reached out to touch you, then hesitated, hand hanging in mid-air, and looked to your face, asking a silent question and searching for the answer. You nodded, smiling a little, and Trevor’s fingers were immediately tracing the vines on your skin (you were suddenly very happy that you had decided to wear a tank-top today). You let him explore for a moment in silence, until his fingers gravitated towards the large, fat leaf on your shoulder and sort of stayed there, tracing around the edges.

“That’s the secret,” You said, finally, reaching up to still his fingers, pressing his palm down until it perfectly covered the Mark, “that’s you.”

You smiled up at Trevor, and he gaped at you, gently lifting his hand so he could peer at the Mark underneath.

“That’s _me_?” He asked, voice filled with joy and wonder, and you giggled a little bit when you nodded.

“Marks appear and grow and stuff when important things and people happen in our lives. That one’s you.” You explained, and Trevor sort-of nodded absent-mindedly.

“But – not to like, not believe you, because I do, but I’m curious – how do you know?”

You wrinkled your nose up, trying to determine the best way to phrase it, “Besides it showing up after I met and got to know you, and besides the fact that “shoulder-touching” is your favorite form of non-PDA reassuring contact, I just kind of…do? Once you see it, on your body, you just _know_.”

Trevor nodded, his thumb tracing the leaf – _his_ leaf – one more time before he cupped your jaw with his hands and pulled you into a soft, loving kiss. You melted against him when he pulled away, and the two of you stayed there like that, you not bothering to cover your Marks again once assured by Trevor that no, the glowy-ness did not mess up his sightline to the TV.

“Hey [Y/N], do _you_ want to know a secret?” Trevor asked a couple hours later, when your eyelids were starting to droop with sleep.

“Mmhmm.”

“Geoff walked up to me this morning and started a conversation just so that he could tell me that when we get married, he wants to transfigure Gus into a person for the wedding. And that Geoff wants to officiate in one of those blue glitter tuxes.” Trevor did a good job of keeping a straight face as he spoke, but as soon as he was finished you both burst out into laughter.

“I can’t believe – Geoff…really?!”

Trevor nodded, “I thought he was – he was joking, but _nope_! Dead – dead serious!”

Eventually, your laughter subsided, and you rearranged yourselves so that you were laying down, wrapped up in each other’s arms.

You fell asleep quickly, so you didn’t hear Trevor’s whispered _“I think I love you”_ against your hair, but that night you had a dream.

A dream where your vision was misty around the edges, where you stood and watched yourself in a white dress stand across from Trevor, looking dapper in a tailored black tuxedo, auras shining as bright as your grins, while a be-glittered Geoff in a blue suit stood between the two of you, reading from a small leather book.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter contains a bit of an ambush, some blood, evil semi-monologue-ing, bad guys dying (one sort of literally gets crushed), and also tears and cuteness and happy stuff too. If you'd like a more detailed description before you decide to read it, please send me a note and I will be happy to give you more detail.


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